Chemical Burn
by verminousdan
Summary: A new bond is about to be thrown into the mysterious world of spies and enemies. Will he be up to the task of taking on the mysterious Burnside


**Joker of the Night**

**By Daniel Eeles**

**Fontaine, Jean de la (1621 – 1695): **

**Death does not take the wise man by surprise; he is always prepared to leave**

['La mort et le mourant']

_Business as usual_

The small woman was fast asleep. Her face soaking in the heat of the suns harsh rays. The man beside her had not stirred once during the night. He would occasionally stutter a cough with the dank smell of the gin on his breath. Between the two naked bodies lay only the smallest of covers, barely covering their flesh. The following morning, as the woman turned over her now tanned body, hoping to find a more comfortable position. She felt out, reaching for her man, but he was gone. The woman was snapped awake, immediately struck still with fear. She looked around and found that his clothes were still littering the nearby sand. As they were both outside and had been lying beneath a large overhanging tree, she was sure he had not gone too far. The surrounding area was bare, the most likely scenario, she could think of, would be that she should be able to easily find him if she stood. She got up onto her feet, throwing a top on over her breasts. Too be honest to herself, apart from this heavenly oasis there was not much left around on the beach. How long had it been since she had last realised that he was lying next to her? How long indeed. In her mind she was trying hard to imagine that he had gone off on one of his wanders. Surely by now he would realise that she would be awake and wanting to know where he was. In the distance she could hear the sea lapping in and out upon the shore. She turned around and watched the waves for a moment, until her eyes started to hurt from the immediate sun. The fear she was feeling would not leave. She had not noticed until now the other various sounds. The birds living on this island sang heir songs. The sun was still moving higher into the sky, the shade now stretching to the spot where she had been asleep. She was surrounded by trees, the sea and the nearby sand dunes for which she could barely see over the top, except for when she was standing upon her toes. On the basis of her thoughts she began to walk inland, but was struck still when an evil thought passed through her mind. What if he was gone? Leaving her on the island alone "Where are you!" she shouted. She wished hard that she was still asleep dreaming this whole thing up. He was surely going to return, he would have too. All those nice things he had said to her, it was not fair and in no way funny. She grabbed hold at any branches along the way, as she made her was back to their love nest. It was here that they had first undressed beneath the stars before passionately making love the previous evening. After hurriedly starting out as a walk before bursting into a run, she made her way through towards the love nest. He heart dropped a beat when she found that he had still not returned. She continued her path of wandering and headed on down towards the sea.

The couple, deeply in love, had originally set sail upon their yacht on a whirlwind honeymoon. They were being free to the world, and for the previous evening, they had decided to stop off at a small island just off the coast of England. The summer heat was strong enough for them to enjoy it like they had always planned. They were unsure of where exactly they had set anchor, this island was not located on any recent maps. There did not seem to be any problems as they were planning on leaving early in the morning. They had slept within the dunes, below the bottom of a large grassed toped hill. Their night had been relatively peaceful throughout the night, but now she was alone and afraid upon this strange island.

The animals of the island all continued making their own distinctive sounds, echoing loudly across the bay. She thought long and hard about her husbands activities. She had always been concerned about his venturing; always reminding his that it would eventually bring trouble. She began to walk bare foot around the edge of the bay, occasionally allowing the tide to wash up over her feet. The whole bay was surrounded by a thick layer of trees leading up towards large towering cliffs. She dismissed the idea that her man would try to find his way up towards these. Sat majestically in the middle of the bay, she could see their ship. Barely sat a few hundred metres away from the beach, she was happy to see it too had not gone missing. It was a thing of beauty standing high into the sky, its sails billowing to and fro. The woman could see that the ship was wide out in the open, though to her something was missing. A small rowing boat that both of them had used to get ashore was missing, she had not see it on her travels, neither was it moored ashore nearby. Deciding her limited options, she realised she could swim to the ship, a few hundred metres would be tiring, but she had the stamina for it. If her man knew that she was back on the ship, it would mean that she was safe, and would most likely be the first place he too would come looking for her. She waded back into the water, forcing her once again to remove the top she had put on. The water was surprisingly warm for this time of the morning, which helped her to feel comfortable within the waters. She swam out slowly towards the boat, feeling the seaweed and the occasional fish brush against her bare legs. Her arms felt heavy the closer she got to the ship. The small safety ladder they had both climbed down to get into the boat still lay down the side of the ship leading into the water. She managed to pull herself up out of the waters, taking the ladder one step at a time. She thanked her luck that she had made it this far. As she crawled over the bars at the top, she swung her tired legs over to touch the wooden deck, she immediately collapsed with exhaustion. The woman was now having to take large long breathes to work her to being able to stand up once more. She was quickly back onto her feet, scouting for any signs of her man. She realised that seeing from the top of the deck that the island was far too big for her to have even begun to search. It was soon apparent to her that someone had been here in the night. She walked over to the cabin door, pushing it open to find the horror. She riled back towards one of the railings outside. Everything was a mess, lying on the floor, smashed or simply thrown haphazardly across the room. A tear welled up in her eye as she thought about her man. Her hopes were fading fast. After finding the courage, she closed the door on the cabin and headed towards the other end of the ship. She was still crying, wiping a succession of tears from her eyes. When she looked back up, she could see someone standing in front of her. Something or someone was there. Maybe he had taken the boat back to the ship and was waiting for her. She quickly made her way towards the figure, shouting out all the way.

"Excuse me? Excuse me" she shouted. The figure in front of her did not move, not did they acknowledge an answer. She approached them slowly, keeping caution as she went. "Hello?" she called

"Hello Greta" called the man.

"Where's my husband?"

"He's in safe hands now" the figure turned around, his face bearing a thousand scars. An evil look cast within one eye and his hands shaking uncontrollably. The woman felt scared.

"Where?" she was getting more upset by the second.

"In the same place as you'll be going soon."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this." The figure raised his left arm and fired a gun into the chest of the woman. She felt the searing pain dome into her, before she collapsed once more onto the deck of the ship. The figure climbed over the nearest side of the ship and jumped down into a nearby motorboat, he reached down towards his beltline, grabbing at the radio that was strapped to the back of his trousers..

"Their both dead sir, she wouldn't shut up though, too many questions." A few seconds passed before an eerie voice came back onto the radio.

"Good, now rid us of the evidence."

"Done sir." The boat was thrown forwards across the water, as the ship exploded into a million shards. It was raining hard with debris. The wave of evil had begun.

I

An Invitation of mystery

Autumn across Southern England was drawing to a close. Winter was starting to rear its cold head each and every morning. The ground was a subtle light mix of orange and red which shone in the rays of the early sunlight. There were no sounds, other than those commonly found in a woodland scene. A lone leaf departed from its holdings and began the slow journey, fluttering downwards towards the ground. Just as the leaf had finally found a place to rest it was suddenly cast back up into the sky. A lone car, dark blue in colour tore through the fallen leaves casting them all in different directions. The man who was driving eased up upon the accelerator and dropped down almost instantaneously into third gear. The wind struck his face with a sharp blast. The tartan scarf wrapped tightly around his neck blew backwards as if to escape its captor. The icy winds felt good upon his face. He quite enjoyed experiencing the thrill of driving at high speeds in an open top vehicle. "Ah, that's brisk" he said.

James Bond was a busy man. He was five foot ten in height and had hair that was as brown as the bark of a tree. His face was always clean shaven; only on a closer inspection would you find any trace of stubble. His dress sense was one of a high class individual. He was never short of money and lusted for the finer things in life. All of the clothes he wore, formal or casual had to be individually tailored. The suits were made by Jasper Littman and gave off the impression that this man meant business. Bond had always had a high amount of confidence, one which at times got the better of him. There was never a time when he was short of female company, with the charm to woo any woman he pleased; Bond was constantly living the high life. He finally found his calling when he was considered a high flyer in his late twenties. After leaving university, he spent a lot of his time moving from place to place, before finally settling down in Henley. Nowhere else had he travelled was there something to fill the hole missing from his life. It was true that he had seen his fair share of battles. But that was all in the past. The days seemed to be getting shorter causing Bond to suffer longer bouts of boredom. The richmans life always drew to a close during the winter months. Maybe it was due to the changing weather or maybe because he had made this particular drive each morning. The roads stretched on for mile after mile. Bond knew the seventeen miles like the back of his hand. Every sweeping curve, each set of lights. He had tweaked to the perfection of being able to time his journey like clockwork. He must leave his flat at exactly seven fifty five and coasted down through the first village and on through the narrow streets. He then powered along the straight, up towards Oxford. As the car moved out into the countryside Bond placed one of his hands firmly on the steering wheel, and with the other shifted the car up through the various gears. With his foot firmly placed on the accelerator at full throttle now, Bond headed onwards as he made the car motor along steadily at seventy miles per hour gaining more speed by the second.

Bond had settled into a weekday job as head of administration of college operations. His master's degree in mathematics was one of Bond's many prides in the world. Henley was such a nice town to live in and the commute to Oxford was a hash one but it was an excellent drive nevertheless, twenty three miles of peaceful open countryside. Bond thoroughly enjoyed boating on the water whenever he got the chance. Of course he watched the boat race at Henley each year. Bond was part of what was known as the in crowd. Everyone knew of him, but not much about the man. Bond was very outgoing in his business. But he never let his personal life be known to anyone. Commitment was a word Bond liked to avoid. Soon after moving to Henley, he decided to start learning about the family trade of working in business. Oxford was a fine place to have once been a scholar. Even though his majors in many subjects had granted him a guaranteed teaching position at the University of Oxford, he had decided to stay true towards his roots and go back to working in the college.

No less than two weeks previously Bond was sent into the city to run some small errands for the college. It was here that he was accosted by a stranger asking for a match for his cigarette. When Bond replied that he did not carry matches on him, the stranger got aggressive. Bond was forced into a corner at knifepoint with his right arm being twisted upwards.

"Listen to me you toff. There coming for you. Be prepared" The stranger let go of Bond and made off back off into the maze of streets and alleyways. Bond was somewhat shaken by the experience but heeded the words said.

As Bond walked down the many roads, he was still having thoughts about his visit from the stranger. Short as the meeting was, he could not get it out of his head. There was only one more street to go through in order to make it out to the college. Bond stood at one end of the last alley. He looked ahead of him; it was nothing but a thin blanket of cold snow all around and a few pieces of rubbish. A solitary number of bins lined the walls of the alley. The college was just beyond this path. Bond took in a long invigorating breathe in. He held the cool crisp air in his lungs before breathing out. It felt refreshing. As the last of the air left his lungs, Bond heard a distinctive noise. The sound of footsteps came up from behind Bond. They steps were close, say fifty feet give or take. Bond walked quickly across the pathway. The snow crunched hard under his heavy feet. Various mounds had appeared since the last time he walked through this part. But these were soon covered in snow. Bond quickened up his pace. The person behind him was also moving quickly, possibly run. If Bond could just get to the other end he could take a closer look at the person. Bond started to run, it was the only way. Within seconds he had made it halfway along the path. He looked around for somewhere to hide. A nearby fire exit would provide him enough cover. He scouted for an ideal spot. With a dash, Bond jumped in towards the hiding spot, pulling himself closer in towards the shadows. The jacket he was wearing was covered in dust and dirt. Bond found himself hidden within the darkness, looking back down the alley towards the stranger. The air seemed to be colder in the shadows here than out in the sunlight. Bond took in a long breathe, he showed no nerves, he was simply out of breathe. Bond waited and watched as the stranger came into view. He could see that the stranger was a man, heavy build, the same height roughly equal to Bond's. He was looking down at an angle so his height could have been more. It was apparent to Bond that both men did not carry a weapon upon them. As the man walked along the alleyway, Bond watched and waited for the ideal opportunity. He moved his body into a better position so that he could get himself a better look. The man, dazed in confusion, soon started to walk towards the place that Bond was hiding in.

It was momentarily, the man was now standing straight in front of Bond. He looked around trying to find hints of Bond's trace of path. His disappearance would have been strange enough for anyone. This was Bond's ideal opportunity. He burst out of the hiding place and landed hard upon the man. There was a scream of pain as both of the men collapsed onto the floor with a tremendous thud. Bond scaled his way off the man and looked down at the stranger's body. It was shaken, but not quite out. The man turned over, he crawled up onto his arms then onto all fours. Bond's did not know what too do. He was confused; he had never been in a situation where he was being attacked. Bond grabbed hold of the man, helping him up, though the stranger had other ideas. He riled round as Bond held on tight to his body. Bond reaffirmed his grip upon the man, taking him by the collar; Bond slammed the man face first into the bricks of the nearby wall. Bond turned the man round to reveal that the man's face was bloodied. The blood dripped down into his mouth. The man screamed in pain. But still it was not going to stop him. The man wiped the blood from his face, shielding himself from any more possible attacks from Bond.

"What is your game?" shouted Bond. The man did not reply as much as Bond could understand it. The spitting of blood occurred tenfold. The man did not need too understand. With a clenched fist the man sent it flying into the side of Bond's face. He too was now riling on the floor in pain. Bond shook his head relieving little pain from the hit. The first man had found his composure and was now coming at Bond fast and furiously. He was about to take aim and fire another hit at Bond, when Bond punched him square on in the chest. It was a well timed shot. He fell backwards against the wall. A second man appeared from the other end of the alley, he too was now running towards Bond. It was a strange situation. The man was trying to attack Bond with a flying kick. Bond grabbed hold to the first man and used him as a shield, quickly throwing the first man into the second. Both men yelped in pain as they fell onto the floor. Bond watched as they fumbled to get up. The second man had been winded badly by the blow. Bond watched and gave a short laugh. The men were both quick onto their feet. They both looked at Bond, before running back out the way that they had came. "What's going on?" said Bond too himself. He adjusted his clothing accordingly, also Allowing himself to correct his composure. Bond finished by parting his hair back the way he liked it. to look good was something Bond prided himself in achieving. He liked being his own stylist. The college was just beyond the next road, it was beckoning him to return.

Bond walked out of the alley way and started the stroll up the gravel driveway towards the college, he pondered as to whether it had all just been a dream. Each day Bond traversed the path up to the school, headed under the large archway. A single lamp hung down to illuminate during the night. But it was the buildings that got to Bond. He liked history, he liked it lot. Not enough however to teach the subject. The buildings had stood the test of time, since eighteen seventy. The more dated buildings covered the areas further back, deeper and more centralised to the other buildings. Bond however was heading towards the main part of the school. His office was on the first floor of the second largest building, De Brayne Quad. It was one of the oldest offices in the entire college. He had found his desk in such an awful mess the previous morning, and the desk lamp had been left on. Things like this were bound to annoy him severely. He kicked up a fuss in the staff room later that day. But these were small details, and they were unlikely to have been caused by Bond. He was notorious for being ill tempered, all the time.

"Morning sir" called a group of girls. They too were following the path up too the college.

"Yes, it's a bit cold though, isn't it?"

"Indeed" they called.

Bond was lucky enough to get himself inside quickly. The main hallway was filled with pupils trying to get warm. They appeared to be huddled in their own groups each talking about the weather. Bond was forced to push his way through the crowds, in order to head up the stairwell. He continued to walk along the corridors, up and down the building.

"How many times have I told you before?"

"Sorry sir."

"OK hold your hands out, your lucky I don't cane you more than is aloud." The teacher raised their arm. The cane quivered in their hand. The young boy closed his eyes waiting for the resulting pain. He winced as he waited. The boy felt he was waiting a lifetime for it all to come. The teachers arm came down quickly. It stopped inches before touching the boy. Bond had his arm out grabbing the teachers.

"Now what do we have here? You were not going to cane this boy were you Sebastian?" said Bond. His face showed someone who was being smarmy about the situation.

"Of course I was. He is a trouble maker." Bond looked down at the boy. He smiled. The boy opened his eyes expecting to see a sternly looking teacher.

"Go ahead boy. You'll be spared the cane today." The boy ran off as quickly as his small legs could carry him. "Think before you punish" said Bond. He removed the cane from the teachers hand and snapped it in half. Bond handed back the two pieces to the teacher. Bond walked away with a good feeling in his heart. The teacher on the other hand was furious.

The teachers lounge was well heated and the roaring fire emanating from the fireplace, gave a bubbling orange glow.

"Ah, Bond." It was the principal of the college. Bond did not think very much of such a person. Although this was not the same principal of his day. This one was very much in the same league. They both had the faint odour of freshly poured brandy and cigars. Bond had not bothered to stop and chat. He needed a coffee and quickly.

"Been celebrating?" quipped Bond back to the principal.

"No, what makes you say that?"

"Oh, nothing." Bond gave a sarcastic smile.

"Now Bond" The principal was striding over after briefly acknowledging the physics professor. "You really need to start keeping your priorities together. I understand from another tutor that you have been working late most nights. I decided to check up on you the other day and found your desk in such a mess. Is everything ok? Do you need some time off?" Bond was offended by this.

"Of course everything is fine. Just because I had some excess paperwork."

"Well just make sure it does not happen again. You work too hard. You could do with some time off." The principal patted Bond upon the back, and then turned to leave. Bond made a rude gesture behind the principals back. Only a few of the other tutors saw. None of them laughed or looked offended. With a hurried step Bond left the room. "Time off indeed." He thought highly of himself, in fact as one of the best. The door to 3A was old, very old. Leaving it alone for even a short while would result in a build up of overwhelming dust. Once the clouds had settled Bond sat down behind his desk. Of course when Bond had originally noticed the mess he began to clean it up. This repeated process had taken a few days to accomplish to its current stage. The routine was simple. Clean for ten minutes then give up. He never needed his desk apart from the times when a backlog of students requests covered all the available spaces.

Today's desk looked different. Less paper than usual, maybe, because it was gone. Bond began to look everywhere. As much as this was strange, Bond was in too bad a mood. Like how it was when he was a student. Bond was formulating a plan against the principal. These thoughts were quickly diminished from his head. Bond lifted his hand to look at his wristwatch. Nine-thirty exactly soon ticked by. Bond gave a long sigh, placed his hands behind his head and sat back into the chair. There was something large and brown on top of one of the student's desks. Bond walked over and picked it up. A large parcel held in his hands. The addressees name was printed onto a label and stuck to the front.

**James Bond**

**Oxford**

The parcel felt light for its size. Whatever was inside could not have been more than a book or of something similar. Bond's belief was correct. A small book was inside and a note also followed.

James Bond

Please recall the meeting we had the other week. I wished to discuss with you more, but I had limited time. The information enclosed is of the utmost importance. I hope upon your further reading of the book enclosed will help you to make your decision.

**PLEASE READ WITH CARE**

The rest of the letter followed on a separate page.

On recommendation of my senior, your services are needed. I have orders to bring you too our headquarters for a briefing. The world is in potential danger and a man of your "skills" is needed immediately for assistance. I am unable to divulge any vital information for fear of it being traced. If you agree, plans will be made with the relevant bodies for your immediate departure. Acceptance is to be done through a written letter deposited in your staff room pigeon hole by five this afternoon.

Beware Mr Bond "people" are watching you!

Bond was unsure what too do. What did they mean the world was in danger? What skills? But more importantly…Who was watching him? For how long now? Bond was confused beyond belief. He re-read both parts of the letter before putting it finally down. For now he had almost forgotten about the book. He picked it up and read the cover. A man quite old in age to Bond stared up at him.

"Tactics from the wars – 2nd edition"

No author name was given. Bond thought nothing of it. The principal wanted him to take holiday, people were watching him and it had not been a dream after all. To make sure of this, Bond pinched himself…nothing. He sat back behind his desk. There was nothing. No pupils for him to teach yet. He had time to think. Time to himself. He picked up the book and read the first chapter to himself, breaking the nothingness around him.

II

Acceptance

When you step into life, certain responsibilities are thrust upon you. People like to use many metaphors to describe this process. Life is your only chance. Though fate will deal you many barriers of which many may cause you too fall, you will always get back up again. Bond's favourite was, to just hit the ground running and fight for your life. No mention of barriers there only ever seen as a potential set of events, only something to live for. Where is the difficulty in all of that? But an invitation, just like the one now all over Bond's mind was such an event, and this one had a major life changing decision attached.

Bond was still confused, if he agreed he still had no idea of what was required of him. All that was mentioned was of a need for his particular skills. Bond needed to think hard. For the second time today he lifted his arm up to look at his watch. Eleven o'clock. The first-year pupils would be arriving in half an hour. The first chapter of the newly delivered book was vaguely interesting. It talked very much of a "predicted time" when all the worlds' countries would be forced to forget differences and work together to solve the biggest problem of them all. The author had still not been revealed, only his face was printed onto the cover, no name. Bond thought hard about whether it was someone famous. Nothing struck him. Bond had scanned the book cover to cover, but he was still unable to find anything. Nothing. Bond was somewhat of a fast reader and had managed to quickly read the first seven chapters before he was eventually forced to look over at the small chiming clock. The clock perched onto the top of the windowsill was made of a dark wood. The single chime signalled the fifteen minutes to go before Bond was due to set off for home.

A sudden knock upon the door, caused him to look over. "Come in." The door creaked open to reveal Miss Orico. Her blonde hair was a killer for men. They could get trapped in her beauty, like a sailor being attracted to the rocks by a siren. Bond had taken the pleasure of inviting her out for dinner once. Even though she was in her mid thirties, Bond decided to treat her well, an evening that ended quite sourly. Bond suffered a sore face from a slap to the face. His advances had been of good intentions, but it was not Miss Orico's style. She was already married. Though that evenings events had not stopped them from still being friends. Bond noticed she was wearing the college uniforms cardigan. She was similarly a scholar of Oxford like Bond, gaining a masters degree in chemicals. Her speciality was to deal with different petrochemicals.

"Hello Bond" she said

"Hello" Bond sat up in his seat.

"I saw you having an argument earlier in the staff room. Thought I would give you some time to calm down before I came in."

"It was nothing. Just old wrinkle face having a moan." She gave a smile.

"Anything I can help with?"

"No not really, unless somehow your able to give me a different lifestyle?"

"Why? Are you not enjoying this one?" she feigned a small smile towards Bond.

"Of course I am. I just wish things would get exciting once in a while." His voice sighed with the tone of his attitude.

"Well, welcome to the real world Bond. Sorry it's not up too your standards. Anyway, you always wanted to be a teacher, ever since I taught you as a student. You thought you could do a better job than any of us. Oh you were young back then. What was the name of that gang you were in?"

"The Oxford Exquisites" Thought Bond. A flood of memories flowed back into Bond mind.

"Oh yes, everyone knew of your exploits. The five of your gang would all sneak into the town and return in the early hours. I cannot remember a week going past, when at least one of your groups had their name up upon the detention list." Bond gave a laugh.

"We had a tally of how many times that happened. I was the eventual winner. Being the leader of a group is not all fun and games."

"Now look at you. All grown up and very little seems to have changed. Your ego is still as big as it ever was. There is no doubt of that. How many times have you crashed that car of yours? Supposedly you're banned from driving through the town?"

"Oh that's a lie. Have you seen the bloody traffic round the place? I would still be stuck down Oxford wick if I was driving now. Anyway my driving is perfectly fine. No one has been hurt to date.

"Oh, and I guess your just forgetting that time last year."

"Like I said, no one got hurt." His voice suddenly became much angry. His fist slammed down onto the desk. Miss Orico stopped talking about his youth. "Now If I may be so kind as to ask you to leave, there is the little matter of your pupils just about too arrive." She looked down at her watch.

"Your right, I must be going. Physics is not going to teach itself." Orico turned from the doorway and left the room. Bond had been lying just a bit. Her pupils were not arriving for another ten minutes.

To be honest he was very picky about who he liked and disliked. She for one was somewhere in the middle. Not entirely someone he was going to forget about, though also someone who seemed to treat his friendship as a means to quell her lack of other friends. It was difficult for Bond to become instant friends with anyone. He was happy being alone, happy to sit and think about life, possibly accompany this with the sounds of a light Mozart symphony. Soon the ten minutes were up and as routine dictated, the pupils were ordered to wait outside the different rooms until called in. Bond could hear the chatter of the children outside the door. Regardless of their age or so called maturity, they were all kids to Bond. It was clear too see from the rumours emanating throughout the staff, that there was another side to Bond and his methods of work, a very strict method. Bond was well aware of these rumours. He tried his best to quell them down from the start. But it all grew out of hand. The principal was always watching Bond's work, trying to check up on him when he was not expecting it. A certain embarrassing incident had occurred a few months back, when the principal was caught with his ear to the door. Bond had heard a muffling sound coming from outside. When he went to investigating the cause of the sound, he found the principal hunched down, low to the ground, ear to the woodwork.

"Shut up" shouted Bond in a small ruse to think they were listening..

In one continuous single file, the kids had soon all entered and the noise died down to less tan a slight murmur. The lessons continued in the same repetitive fashion as it had always done. There would be moments of teaching, a question is asked, Teacher re-teaches. The hours seemed to drag past slower than normal. Thankfully for Bond once the bell had rung once more for the end of the lesson Bond was able to dismiss his work. For some reason being in the college that morning had taken a lot out of him. Maybe it was the thoughts playing upon his mind.

Bond was finally able to sit back down in his chair. The desk was still slightly cluttered with new paperwork. Though this would once again need to wait till later. Who were these people? Bond was puzzled. He had enquired at all available opportunities but to no avail. "Their secrecy must be part of their job." He reached for a pen from out of his pocket. A blank piece of college marked paper was now present in the only empty space left on the desk. Bond hovered his hand over the white sheet. He thought long and hard as what to write. The sudden growing sound of a pair of squeaky shoes emerged from outside in the corridor. "Darn, it's him again." With a quick step Bond got to his feet and ran quickly over towards the side panel of his cupboard. There he lay flat as to conceal his body. The noise grew as the person walked closer. Without the sound stopping they entered the room and stopped.

"Missed him." The principal turned on his heels and left. When Bond was sure that the principal was well away form the room, Bond emerged once more.

"Thank god for that." Bond moved back to what he was previously doing. The squeakiness of the shoes was now gone. The gentle chatting of someone outside the door was all that was left. The pen continued to stay in Bond's hand, somehow unable to put itself onto the blank space and write something.

Miss Orico had finished teaching her class at around about the same time as Bond (She liked to affirm her class of all the main points that had come up during the lesson, causing them to stay later than usual). She picked up her belongings from her room and made her way towards the staff room. Bond recognised the sound of her footsteps. It was the sound of a good pair of knee high boots clicking along the wooden floors as she went. Possibly thought Bond, in suede. That sort of colour would suit her. Though it was not his to keep mental note of such things. As Miss Orico passed the door Bond called her in.

"Enjoyed our conversation earlier so much? You want more?" she gave a slight chuckle, still annoyed at Bond's previous manners..

"No, I just wanted someone's opinion. You seem like the second sanest person I know in this place."

"And the first?" puzzled Miss Orico

"The dinner lady, she never goes wrong with me, not once. It's the same slop everyday, the same awful tasting jacket potato and beans." She chuckled once more but slightly louder now.

"I really shouldn't have asked. So what is it that you want to talk to me about?"

"Well, you see. The principal wants me to take some holiday. Get my targets reset and what not. Personally I don't see how it is going to help me in the slightest. I enjoy working here. Taking holiday now would be a mistake. Wouldn't it?"

"If I was you, I would take it. It is not like the old man to be giving one of the staff this type of special treatment. Especially at this time of the year at least."

"I guess he is just concerned for my mentality."

"Well having a friend that it's a really bad cook is not normal."

"Says you. I guess the old man is right in a way. It's not like its going to hurt anyone."

"Well if you want, I could take over your classes. Science and Maths kind of go hand in hand."

"But what about your pupils?"

"Easy, I'll just set up some experiment, cause some minor damage and then claim it off as unsafe to work in. These rooms have got the space for two classes?"

"Yes, it has. But all that might cost you your job."

"Not really. I'm a scientist. I'm bound to make some mistakes."

"Well if it's not a problem."

"No, none at all. Doing this would kick some life into the job. I have got to be going. I hope to see you once you return. Any plans for your destination?"

"No not yet. Ok, well remember to relax, wherever it is."

"I'll try." Miss Orico left the room and proceeded off down the corridor. The pen was still in his hand. He had been twisting in round his fingers whilst he had been talking. For some reason, the reassurance of Miss Orico was enough to help him write down the letter.

To whom it my concern

I shall sign, but not on the terms that you have given. You have still left many questions unanswered. This is somewhat unacceptable. I only sign, purely out of curiosity. I am now under the impression that you will divulge more information soon. I look forward to hearing from you.

-James Bond

He now rose from his chair and began to pack his belongings. He did not feel like teaching the rest of the day. It was common practice for Bond to feign sickness when he felt somewhat bored of the slug that is work. Though not actually leaving work, he would go sit in the staff room, close his eyes and fall into a long daydream. Recently however, the dreams had become somewhat darker than Bond could imagine. He was reliving his parent's deaths all over again. Bond always felt cold during these times. The papers that had been left upon his desk were now filed away in the cupboard. It did not take long to walk back down to the staff room. The first thing Bond noticed about the room was the clock on the wall. It was now reading five minutes to one. "Good, just over four hours left to spare. Four hours," Bond thought "Just in case I change my mind." He remembered he would have to tell the principal. But instead of telling him face to face. Bond wrote all of the details down for him and dropped the letter into his office letterbox. Luckily the letterbox was included in the staff room. The afternoon was to be arduous. The pupils attended his classes in age order. So the morning was the first years, followed in the afternoon, by the second and third. Now with the increase in age there seemed to be no increase in the maturity of some pupils. The first years were very scared, shy or quiet to the point of keeping themselves too themselves. The second years were more confident, like they had been given a smack up the backside and told by their parents to improve their effort. Of course this reflected onto the teachers and so the pupils found it more exciting to bait the teachers on. The third years were the worst of the whole college. They were the oldest and believed that they knew best. Worldly wise? Bond thought not. Though the third year was their final year, It gave Bond much to smile about, describing that in a few short months their lives to become monotonous by joining the working man. But would the pupils listen? No. Quarter to five rolled up and Bond had so far not changed his mind. Would he do so in the last fifteen minutes? Bond was unsure. Though his gut feeling was to just let it be, go get the letter, then pretend that nothing had ever happened. He was intrigued to find out the truth. To be given the answers. By five o'clock Bond was still sat in room 3A, staring out of the window and across the long driveway. "Sad to miss you." He turned and picked up his bag. The walk down back towards his car was no different. Although he was not returning for sometime. How long was not specified. Bond guessed the principal did not wish for him to return until he was fully relaxed again, or for that matter, at all. Bond stopped and turned with the speed of a bolt of lightening. The window of 3A had been blown out. Plume of smoke fought to escape through the missing window. "I take it that's the minor incident." Bond gave a smile and continued to walk down the path. A new life lay open before him.

III

What they don't know

The two bedrooms flat in Henley were very ideal for Bond's accommodation needs. Luckily buying at the right time had allowed him to purchase one of the finer properties at a cheap price. Its many facilities included that of a shower/bathroom with faux gold taps, a living room with a beautiful view of the Thames and a kitchen designed with a floral motif (Bond was not such a fan of these particular flowers. Nevertheless, he had always found a lack of time to remove them). Bond moved into the living room and sat upon the long pearl coloured sofa. He stared out of the window, looking out towards the clouds. The sun was now setting down on another day. A day for Bond that would hopefully lead to more information. This proposal seemed to be serious. Whoever it was that knew of Bond's past, knew what he was capable of doing and still capable of doing. Bond was deep in thought, still sat in his teaching clothes. He was now on holiday, what was he doing sitting in his flat?

"No time to be sitting around here doing nothing." By now he was feeling hunger like he had never felt like before. The day's events had taken it toll. Bond stood up from the chair and proceeded to make his way into the kitchen. He was a quaint lover of the fine foods. Bond was quick on making a decision on what he was going to make. Linguine pasta covered in grated truffle was his choice. As one of his favourites Bond knew the recipe off by heart. The flat seemed lonely with just him there. The meal was made quickly. Though now he took his time on eating it. For some reason, this all didn't feel right too him. There was something inside of him that made him feel like there was something missing. Bond finished off the meal. He surveyed the flat. Furniture was all over the place, the carpet was a mess. Bond's mind was a mess. He moved back to sitting down in his chair. He looked over at window. The sun had finally settled for the day. Bond closed his eyes and quickly drifted off too sleep. The thoughts and dreams flowed freely into his mind. There was one memory however, the one memory that would never leave him. Bond would often think about that time. He tried all he could, eventually seeking help through a psychiatrist in order t rid him of the memory, but it was no use. Bond would have to live with the consequences. There had been a time, when Bond was a happy little child, a boy running through the countryside with friends. But secretly he was hiding a secret. A member of his family was hurting him mentally. Hurting him in a way, he would never forgive them for. Behind the backs of others, Bond's Bondfather would take him away for weekends at a time. Driving out far too an old looking building. The signs all looked shabby; this place had been abandoned long ago. Bond as a child would watch as the gates to the building would open up, revealing to all the hidden glory. Bond would always remember to look of the gates. It was the only part he could see. He was too small to see over the dashboard just yet. Bond always waited for the click of the gates closing, before turning to watch his Bondfather pull up too the building. Then he closed his eyes and counted. Thirty four that was the number he would always count up too. The time it seemed to take for the people in charge of the building to show themselves. As soon as he finished counting, his passenger door would open. A man, quite tall, but looking fairly young for his age, would always grab out at him. Bond out at the clothed he was wearing that day. Bond was dragged out of the car and along the path up too the building. The steps banged against his feet every time. It hurt the back of his ankles. At first Bond would scream. No one came, no one ever came. He felt like he was being abused. The rest was a blur. It always was. Bond could not talk to anyone about this. No one would believe him about the fast cars, men dragging him out of the car and above all his Bondfather committing these acts. The same man who had done nothing but look out for Bond his whole life. But from the moment, he left the warmth of his house, until they arrived. Bond knew something was going on.

Bond suddenly awoke as if coming straight out of a nightmare. He fumbled about, grabbing at whatever he could. The flat was empty apart from him. Everything else was neat and tidy. Although of this, Bond felt dirty. He quickly burst form the seat and ran. He ran as fast as he could into the bathroom. He pushed the plug in with force then slammed the taps onto full burst. The water gushed out of the taps with the ferocity of a set of rapids. As soon as the water was full enough. He dunked his head into the cold water. It felt awful. He still felt dirty all over. Taking his head out of the water he quickly removed his clothes, ripping the shirt off of his flesh. He looked down at the heap on the floor; it was disgusting to think he had been wearing those clothes at all. For a man who took such pride in himself, it was shames too see a mishap such as these occur, Bond lunged forwards, slamming his head back down into the water. The memories would not go. They played for him even here. He took his head out of the water. Breathed in like he had never taken in air before. He kept his eyes closed. A mistake he should not have made. Before long a hand came down onto the back of Bond head and smacked his head back down into the water. Bond struggled as he tried to release himself. The person was not going to let go. Bond was not going to die by this executioner. He gripped forwards. His arms were being held back, as if they were tied down. Bond opened his eyes. The last few second of life were fleeting fast away from him. His last hope presented itself. Bond pushed forwards slightly opened his mouth and grabbed the plug with his teeth. The sink was big enough to get a small amount of grip. He tried pulling backwards, knocking his head on one of the taps. As soon as the water drained out down the plug hole. Bond spat the plug out, coughing for air. The person let go of his arms and the back of his head. Between spluttered coughs Bond forced for questions. The water dripped down his face into the empty sink

"Who are you?"

"I thought you would never ask, though I still won't answer that question just yet." It was a woman voice, it sounded wispy towards the end of her sentences.

"How did you get in?" he called

"Dry yourself up and come sit down, I'll explain." Bond did not feel awkward standing there in the nude. The woman walked out of the bathroom and out towards the chairs in the lounge area. Bond grabbed hold of a nearby towel. He dried himself thoroughly. There was no time to preen himself. He dashed into the bedroom, passing the woman on the way. She was sat staring down at a file of sorts. Bond grabbed a nice linen suit he had been sent. He tried the suit on, remembering to forward a note to the tailors on an exquisite job well done.

Eventually Bond made his way into the lounge. The woman was still sat reading the file. Bond sat down on the only other chair in the area. He looked over at the woman. For the first time he could properly see what she looked like. It was her emanating beauty. Bond felt a slight tingle run down his spine. The woman looked up.

"I got your acceptance today. It is good to have you on board. I thought you might be here. You were not at the school. This is what we meant by watching you. That and sending some of our agents to try you at some hand to hand combat. You definitely showed them whose boss." She took a sip of the drink she seemed to have poured herself. "You have a tendency to be in here at least once a week don't you?"

"Yes, so are you going to tell me more about this whole thing? What do you need with me?" The woman took another sip of her drink.

"Not here. You will be fully briefed on your way to the Ministry." This was somewhat confusing to Bond. "I suggest we leave here soon, it would be good to reach the Ministry before it gets too dark." Bond agreed. "Don't bother with your belongings. We will send someone over to come get them. The both stood up at the same time. Bond looked himself in the mirror once more. He rearranged his tie and cufflinks, before showing the woman to the door. The exited the flat, heading down the stairs and into the coldness of the street.

IV

Welcome

Parked outside the flat was her car, a Morgan Plus 8 roadster, silver in colour, a top speed of two hundred and two miles per hour. It was sat there, inviting people to come take a look. Such was as people had started to crowd round. Bond was trying hard not too get too caught up in the shoving. "Ok move away now" the woman shouted. Like magic they all did so instantaneously. It must have been the roar throbbing power of the cars engine. "Hop in, there should be enough room." Bond edged his way into the car. Although it was a very sporty model, it was also quite cramped. She put her foot firmly onto the accelerator and allowed the car to rev up then waited for it to slowly run down. Once this was done she slammed the handbrake down and set the car off down the street. Henley did not now what hit it. The speed limits were oblivious to her. Once they were out into the countryside. She finally started to talk. "The names Lovely by the way, Lovely Valentine. I represent an organization called the Ministry. It is like the secret service. But more secret. The prime minister will only acknowledge our existence in word form only, and our members are selected only on skills seen through many years of service for Queen and country."

"So why have you chosen me? I am just a teacher."

"All will be apparent soon." With these words she shifted the car into its highest gear and checked in her mirror. "We're not being followed that is a good sign. We were starting to get a bit cautious as to our presence being noticed."

"What is all this we, us, me. It just does not make any sense at all." Lovely violently pulled the car over to the side of the road.

"I should not really be telling you this Duncan. But it may save some time later on." The sun was setting upon the horizon. "As you know there have been a number of people watching you. The first is us, at the Ministry. We have been watching to make sure that you stayed safe, we were given strict orders to make sure that you were the right candidate." This was not good news to Bond he moved his palm over the handle to the door. Any sign that this was not for him, he would step out and make his way back to his flat, back to his ordinary life. "The second is "them" as we know, we are unsure of their name or purpose. We were lucky to spot their interest in you."

"But don't you think I would have noticed someone watching me?" Lovely thought for a moment.

"Have you had anything happen to you in the last few days that you would think was….unusual?" Bond thought back to his desk.

"I did find my teaching room in a mess."

"That is just wrong. They would never do such a thing. They have a high regard for being as professional as possible. They must have been disturbed whilst looking around. To them you hold something secret, something, which will help them with their job." Should she have told him all this? It was after all information being held confidentially. Lovely had a feeling she could trust Bond. His hand was now fully gripped around the handle of the door. One more query and he would move. "But don't worry, Bond. You are in safe hands."

"Just tell me one thing. How can I trust you?" Lovely had also noticed his hand on the doors handle. She was thinking of ways to convince him that all was well and nothing was going to happen to him.

"You can't Bond. You cannot trust me one bit. All I ask is you come with me too the Ministry. There is someone there you will be able to talk to. He will give you all the answers you want."

"This just does not feel right, something is up. Why have you taken me like this?"

"Because you're in danger Bond. You may not know it but "they" have something planned. I cannot tell you anymore about it. Please believe me. Allow me to change your mind. I know you will once you see the Ministry. I am telling you, the answers you need are waiting there for you there." She placed her hand upon Bond's. He began to release his fingers off of the handle. As much as he did not like the idea of what might, if anything was going to happen, he was sure that he may find some answers. He sat back in the seat and stared down the road. It was now fairly dark outside. "Its only a few more miles further down the road. We should be able to make it just in time if we speed. Bond had no doubt that she was fully capable of doing this. The car revved up once again and burst through the gears to top speed. Bond thought of his present circumstances and then moved onto what the future had in store for him. He was still none the wiser. Hopefully this Ministry could help him out. His past was filled with various questions. These secrets they talked about. What could they be? Bond stayed in this train of thought for the rest of the journey. It was short. She had sped across countryside and through villages at an incredible rate.

The Ministry was a secret well kept from the prying eyes of the public. The buildings had been hidden in the most remote part of Southern England. A tall archway made of stone covered the entrance to the driveway; the centrepiece was a large dagger facing downwards. As the car drove in through the gates Bond noticed a plaque to one side of the gates. It shone with a new coat of polish. It read "_Reverend place_". He thought of it being a strange name. At the end of the driveway sat a large Tudor manor building with a long sweeping drive. The gardens were kept in pristine order. Various fountains spurted the glistening water into the air. The moons glow shone through these spurts and created beautiful rippling water like patterns all across the lawns. Enormous firs and pine trees dominated either side the driveway. The branches folded over and continued the archway the entire length down. The car engine wound down as they approached the front door of the mansion. There were a number of lights on in some of the rooms. The light shining over the entrance was shaped by a small lantern. Just like a moth to a flame, Bond made his way out of the car and in through the door. Lovely walked steadily in front of him, as too make sure that he did not get lost. The halls were decorated with some very fine materials.

"Very posh" said Bond.

"He likes to have it that way."

"Who is this he? He must be worth a few pounds."

"Oh money is the very least of our worries here. As I said earlier we are part of her majesties secret services and the money is instantly wired straight through to us at any given time." The Bond staircase that dominated the inner hallway was huge. Its pine railings stretched up and separated off into two sets of stairs. "Come Bond, It is just over here." Bond turned and followed her through a set of huge doors. At the end of this hall was a large open office. The walk was a short one. A man was sat behind a large wooden desk. The polish upon its surface reflected the overhead lights towards Bond's direction. Bond instantly recognized the figure; they had not seen each other in years.

"Jamesit is so good to see you again." He said as he rose from the seat.

"How long has it been now?"  
"Too long, please at all means do take a seat." Bond sat down on the nearest plush arm chair. Lovely did the same and sat not too far away from them. "No real need for introductions. I guess we have both changed in looks Bond, It will never be like how it used to be." M laughed. He wanted to talk away into the night. Discussing and sharing with Bond memories of the past. But business was business and this had to be sorted out here and now. "Let's just get it out in the open. We need your help Bond. You are looking for answers and we can answer any questions you may have." Bond began to open his mouth to start asking away. M immediately interrupted. "But not at this moment. What we are asking you to do is dangerous. You have the skills. I have seen it in others before. How you will fair with all this is left too be seen. I suggest that you are trained up to our highest standards. I have a small task for you Bond. If you complete this task you will then be let in on the bigger picture." M sat down behind his desk, the paperwork scattered across its surface showed many files and folders most of which bore the bright red symbols for Top Secret. "Lovely here will take you onto our training facility immediately. Everyone is asleep at the moment, but don't fear of waking anyone. I shall see you in the morning Duncan." He only raised his head once more from his paperwork. "It is good to see you accepted our offer in the end. I am sure you will be a great asset." His head bowed down and the pen scratched away in his hand. Lovely rose from her chair and called Bond to follow here. He did as he was told and left the room after Lovely. The halls all looked similar from one another. It was difficult for Bond to get the geography of the place in his head. It would have time for doing that later. Every time they moved round a corner there seemed to be the same pictures and carpeting. The last corner held a lift at the end. Lovely pressed on the button to call the lift to this level. There was no talk between them as they waited. The lift soon arrived and both stepped in. Bond did not see which button Lovely pressed, but the doors closed quickly. The lift moved and the two of them were moving on down to the training room.

The lift doors opened to what looked like an amazing room. It was extremely large. This must have been the basement far below the building. It would of have been extended outwards quite a way. The lift had taken them down to a room which looked like it was filled with every piece of training equipment thought conceivable. "Ok, we need to head over there." She raised her hand and pointed at an area that looked like it was some sort of village.

"What is all this stuff?" he said.

"These different areas all come together to form one large training area. We can train up all of our members so that they are ready for combat. Also to have them ready at anytime for a job we want them to do. You'll have to go undercover."

"What like a secret agent?"

"Yes, now get ready. Your training assignment waits."

V

Let's get you trained

It was not long until Bond found himself standing just outside the first training area. Coming to him live from a number of speakers around the room was the voice of Lovely. He was able to listen in on what Lovely was telling him.

"Ok, Duncan. In this first test I shall help you along, get you into the grips of what might be expected of you. The second test you shall take it alone, all I can tell you is that it is set in a different scenario. Then for the third test you shall be required to complete a quick obstacle course set out across a number of challenges. In order to gain access onto the next test, you need to pass a number of objectives for each particular scenario. Everything around you is either a person or part of the props we use for training, please remember that. We don't want a repeat of a certain incident. The people and building will all be in character. All of the parts are played by members of the Ministries drama club. They have been briefed with the relevant details, explicitly telling them what to do and how to perform. They are very good at their acting, which reminds me, you must check out the plays they perform twice a year. I must remember to pass on a message to inform you of these. Lovely made a note on a pad of paper in front of her. Now there are sensors in your clothing and everything is regulated through these sensors." Bond was now stood wearing what looked like a full pinstripe suit complete with the flower creeping out of the lapel. He was not wearing a hat. Bond thought this would have been a nice accessory. "A hat from Harrods possibly." Surprising for Bond he felt something under his left shoulder. A small pistol was held in a leather holster.

"What on earth is this for?" he exclaimed

"Well, if the people do start to attack. You have the option to shoot back. Don't worry the gun is not real. All of the information from the three tests shall be analyzed and we can then determine what additional training you may need. This is also a good situation to judge your abilities to shoot, interact, use stealth and to also monitor your physical abilities. We shall be working throughout the night. So please try to stay focused as much as you can. Do you have any questions?"

"I have just one." Bond had been thinking the question over in his head. "Do you think I have what it takes to make it?"

"Personally I think with the right amount of training, you could go a long way. Now…shall we start?" Bond gave a nod and looked straight ahead. "To give you an idea of what is in store for you this first scenario is that of the village. You are here to find out who has been stealing from the church collection box. It's nothing too big, rudimentary police work. I have a feeling you shall ace this test." Bond went back to looking at the village. Bond could hear people talking and the looks on several people's faces. "Let us begin. First make your way into the village. You should notice people looking at you. Don't worry. Your ability for stealth is not needed just yet. This is fine. You should come to the church at the end of the main road." Bond could see all this was going on. He was shocked to see such props. How real everything looked. Only that of a cool breeze had been brushed across his hands. The detail on everything was intricate to the highest possible standards. The people were staring at him. Then like nothing had actually happened they looked back and carried on with what they were previously doing. The makeshift church stood tall on the far side of the road. Bond made his way over towards the small gate that was the only opening in the brick wall. He pushed on through and walked up the gravel path, walking past a number of gravestones. Bond looked down at the names. Everyone in the graves appeared to have died fairly young. He heard Lovely talking again. "Just walk up too the door and knock." Bond did so and stood waiting for an answer. A small humble man with grey hair answered the door. He looked up at Bond, forcing his hand to rise up and adjust his glasses.

"Hello my child, how may I be of service?" The character of the priest was extraordinary. It had a distinct northerner's accent. Somewhere from the Yorkshire dales, Bond was all intrigued he thought about taking a guess.

"Ask him if you can talk to him about the missing money. If he asks for ID, just show him the pass held in the breast pocket of your jacket. It should be efficient."

"I am here to talk about the missing money, I represent the local authorities. Please, if I may be allowed to come in ad talk to you bout the spate of incidents."

"Indeed young man."

"If I could please just see the box itself. I promise not too take too much of your time."

"It is nothing. Please do come in. I was just getting ready for today's sermon." The voice was talking away in the background.

"So, can you tell me anything about the robberies?"

"Well. It always seems to be happening on a Tuesday. Cannot give you an exact time, just that it could be anyone I guess." Bond seemed to be getting the hand of investigating crimes. He looked down upon the watch on his wrist. The day was Tuesday. It was all laid out for him. The priest walked down the aisle of pews. "It is never the same amount, equivalent to the whole week's worth of collections." Bond was mentally getting it all down.

The box was wooden in material; a lock covered the front with a small slit in the top to allow people to drop their money in. There seemed to be little way in which anyone could open the box without the key for the lock. Bond picked the box up and examined it from all angles. There was no way that shaking the box upside down would release any of the money. The hole was only good for putting the money in. Whilst he went about doing this the priest walked about rearranging all of the hymn books so that they were all identically in line with each other.

"Bond" came the voice once again. "Try to look around the place, maybe there will be a clue of sorts. From now on I am going to give you the most minimal amount of help possible. You can solve this on your own." Bond moved back up towards the door.

"Leaving already?" said the priest.

"Oh no, just looking around that's all. If you don't mind me asking, where about do you keep the key for that box?"

"I keep it where I always keep it, in my office. It hangs just behind my desk. It is always there. It's a miracle how they manage to get the money out." The priest went and sat down on the front pew. He was an old man. His age must have been in the late fifties. His shortness of breath was noticeable and Bond tried to carry on without paying too much attention. Bond tried to open his mind to all possibilities. Could it be someone sneaking in through a window? There appeared to be no evidence t back up that claim. What about the priest? Maybe he is lying? No, why would he call the police on himself? Bond trudged over to the entrance. He was looking at the door frame when the nearby notice board caught his eye. Classified ads, judo lesson, church meets; it was generally filled with what Bond would call, tasteless junk. But on further inspection the answer was there in front of him. The church meets. A group called the GG club, a collection of people interested in Knitting, embroidery, paper craft and antique collectibles. The list went on. The group meets up on a Tuesday afternoon and partook in all these activities. They started the group at three thirty and it lasted until six. His watch said four forty.

"Priest, where does the GG have their meetings? In one of the other rooms my boy. Please, they must not be disturbed. They find it a grace of dire unforgiveness, if they should ever be interrupted. It's the same every week. I even have to sit in my office whilst they leave. Something to do with religion I hope. The leader, Carol comes in and says good-bye to me each week. It's nice. I enjoy the regular visits."

"I think I have just worked out who's taking the money priest, and I think I know how they do it." Bond called the priest to follow him into the next room where the women were. They were startled to see the priest and a complete stranger bursting into the room and sticking their noses into their business. All seemed calm and ok, but Bond was about to burst it wide open.

"Now ladies which one of you is Carol?" Carol raised her hand. "If you would be so kind as to stand up. Carol stood up in front of the group. The voice through the speakers sounded excited, as if Bond had suddenly won the jackpot, it was beckoning him to carry on. "Young Carol here is not all she seems. In fact none of you ladies are all you may seem. You're all thieves."

"How dare you accuse us of such a thing?" she protested

"Well, let me reveal. Each Tuesday you would come in. Knowing that the priest is out in the church tidying up from the morning sermon, one of you sneaks in and grabs the key. You come here, do your group activities and then leave. As you have a deal with the priest you ask for him to stay in his office, you then take the money. Once this is done, Carol here goes and sees the priest. Walks behind him, and places the key back where it first was." The priest was shocked.

"I never knew."

"Well you do now. You were none the wiser, but it's all been worked out. The women in turn including Carol gave themselves up.

The first test was over. Bond could feel the relief. He had gotten the idea of what he had too do. He just had to think of the logical reason before acting. Bond made his way over to the start of the second task. "Just stand next to the entrance and wait for my orders. This one is going to be a bit tougher. Your job is about stopping the assassin before he kills the witness. Too make it even more difficult, you have to make it look like an accident. Think you can do it? Let's see how good you are with that gun." Bond walked through a doorway, out into what looked like a city. It was time to prove how good he was. The only information he was given was about the assassin, the crime he had committed and the reasons to justify why they needed to be killed. The scenario was small. Bond checked out the area and used some of his skills too find out more information when he needed it. All the while watching the timer to see how long he had left until judgment. He did not know where the witness was being held, but knew if he was too slow, it was game over for them. The city scenario felt like home to Bond. He had watched for a moment as the people walked around him, blissfully unaware of his presence. Bond had managed to find out that the assassin was on his way too the killing of the witness. Bond needed to be in the right place at the right time.

His body was pressed firmly against the wall. He was biding his time, watching for that moment the one that would signal the end. A mess stopped. Cleared up instantly. Though no sounds were coming from upwind, he remembered to regulate his breathing. That moment, as reports would later describe was there. Momentarily it was revealed to him. The street across from him was full of cars. Citizens and passers-by all continued on their way. Aimlessly aware of what was about to happen. Him! The man with the gun, the man who but a moment ago was watching from an alleyway. It was he that moved first. If only it was to get a better view of the scenery. The scenario looked so good during the day. The monuments were dominating the skyline all around. This was not too be kept for long. The gun was now concealed up the left arm of his coat. The sounds of a horn, a screech of tyres, a gunshot, a louder screech, a crash, a scream and a death. These events came together, oh so perfectly. Had anyone seen? Had anyone for that matter heard? This was a big city. No one would have battered an eyelid. Of course there were people running over to see, but because of him. It would be covered up as a accident. Bond shot at the moving target was uncanny. He had, managed to hit dead on target. The assassin was dead.

The scenario ended and Bond thought he could see Lovely smiling at him.

"Not bad at all. You are definitely a natural with that gun. The enemies had better look out. Ok the final test is an obstacle course. There will be a series of problems to overcome. Once you enter you cannot leave until it is finished. There should be no problems at all, if you do wish to leave, simply shout out and I shall disable the machines. Remember if you do that, it's an automatic fail. The entrance lies just ahead of you. Oh and before you get shut in. Do remember there is a time limit to this test. Good luck." Bond paced about for a while limbering his body up. He moved around the entrance and completed a series of stretches. This was it. Just like the younger days. This is what they were training him up for. They had something big, something worthwhile. It was at this moment, he knew what they wanted from him. The entrance closed behind him. It was all or nothing now.

The obstacle course was surrounded by a single path track. The first long sweeping corridor seemed to go on for quite some time. Bond started to make a move onto completing the course. He immediately broke into a run, making his way to the end of the straight path as soon as possible. The path then seemed to move round a corner. The number one was painted upon the wall. A large hall, roughly the size of a tennis court was now in front of Bond. All seemed empty. Bond edged his way slowly into the room. He noticed first the high blocks that were scattered around the room. They seemed to be of different sizes. He looked around for where the exit might possibly be. He moved in amongst the blocks until he found it. The exit was on a different level to the ground. Bond soon worked out that he would have to climb and jump from one block to the other in order for him to make it through the door. He made his way back to the first block and began to climb. The surfaces were all flat and Bond spent time judging the distance between each gap. From this he determined whether or not a running jump was needed. The first gap was a simple jump over to the next block. Bond decided that no run was needed. But as he made his way onto the third block, he could see the gaps had grown. The room had six blocks in total all of which seemed to be made of a hard plastic material. Bond's run up onto the fourth was tremendous. It took him a second to plan his run up before he tried making it onto the fifth. The sixth was going to prove the most difficult. Not only was it a large gap, but the block was not level with the others. Bond would have to take a running jump and then grab hold of the top of the block. From there he would need to use his strength to pull himself up. He moved over to the edge to see how far down it was. A good fifteen foot drop lay in front of him if he failed. He moved to the far edge of the block and prepared himself. He began his run and as soon as his left foot came near to the edge of the block he pushed up and leapt into the air. He took the run up but Bond made a mistake. He adjusted his arms so as to grab the edge of the next block. He managed to hit the side with full force. The palms of his hands were straining with his weight. Bond started to pull himself up. But in doing so his hand slipped. The sweat from his palm caused his hand to slip and he was left dangling there. A quick wipe on the side of his trousers was all that was needed. He put all of his strength into his other arm and pulled himself over to regain the grip. He finally managed to climb on top of the block. He lay for a moment to get the feeling back into his body. This however was only momentarily. Bond sprung to his feet and moved on to the next challenge. The door from the room full of blocks led him outside. It was dark. Night was still ongoing. Bond wondered for a moment whether he had taken a wrong turning. This however was also momentarily. For just brushing past his head a bullet flew past. Bond dived into what looked like a bush. He could not see the shooter and did not want to risk giving him another chance. Bond could see a small path weaving in and out of the grass. It was covered in gravel. Its grey colour was a brighter shade to that of the black grass. Bond moved part of the bush aside with his fingers. He could now see the exit. It sat at the far end of the grass. There seemed to be a little amount of obstacles blocking his path. Getting to the exit was going to be a tricky thing to do. Bond planned his path meticulously. All the while the timer was ticking away. He needed to act fast. In order for this too happen. Bond would need to stay covered. But with little covering about, this may prove difficult. He could just run the distance. But fear of being shot would mean he would fail. The marksman was still unable to be seen. He was well camouflaged. Well if he could do that. Then why couldn't Bond. With exception for not getting himself dirty, Bond came up with a plan of distracting the marksman. He judged the distance just like he had done with the blocks. If he could distract the guard for long enough then he could just run across the grass. There would be enough time for Bond to make it. There would not be enough time for the marksman to look and aim at the distraction and then get aim upon Bond. He looked around for something to distract him with. He picked up a large rock. He threw it over the bush and ran. The thud of the rock sparked the marksman. He began shooting in the place the rock had fallen. Bond ran with all the stamina he had and moved through the exit. He had not time to stop and catch his breath. He needed to finish this. How many more challenges waited for him? Climbing and now being shot at. They really were putting him through a very rigorous set of tests. The door did not immediately open upon the next room. It curved round as if it was now going back upon itself. He could feel the temperature of this corridor turning cold with every step. Just ahead of him was a door. Bond noticed a jacket and ski goggles hung up on the wall. A pair of gloved had fallen upon the floor. Bond put them on immediately. They did seem to help him in sorting out the coldness he was feeling. Bond tried to open the door. It was frozen shut. The lining between the doors was covered all the way along with ice. Bond tried to push the door open in a hope of entering. Nothing seemed to be working. He took a running leap, landing a foot at the door. He struck the door kicking it open. A blizzard immediately blew in.

The goggles seemed to be helping but not as much as Bond hoped. With every step he took into the room the goggles filled up with more snow on the outside. It was a constant battle to shade his eyes whilst he hunted for a way out. Everything was white, in all directions. He trudged on forwards, hoping that he was keeping to the same path. The wind did not help, Bond was knocked over twice before he even got glimpse of the red light. This light was hope, incredible hope. The light glowed brighter then would disappear as another torrent of snow blinded Bond. He was gaining upon the exit. The exit he longed for, the exit that marked the end of these tests. After walking for what seemed like and eternity Bond managed to fall down in front of the door. It was the same as the last. The ice had frozen around the outside. He did not have the strength inside of him to perform another kick. Still breathing he nudged upon the door. It did not move. Bond pulled himself up to his feet. With some small fight inside of him, he punched at the door punching each time, at a new piece of ice. One by one they were dropping off. Finally after a few minutes of pushing, he was able to finally get the door open.

Lovely was standing above him. She had watched the entire procedure. "That was amazing Bond absolutely fantastic. Not many people are able to get through some of those tests." She helped Bond up onto his feet. He looked exhausted, and in need of a long earned rest. He had lost a night sleep. He staggered with Lovely holding onto him, over to the lift. His body had partially unfrozen.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To get those answers you were after." It was all finally coming together. Everything would all come together now.

VI

Answers

The pain running through Bond's body was luckily weakening by the second. Most of the walk to see M had too be assisted and it was not until the final corner that he managed to get the feeling back into his hands. He thanked Lovely for her help, taking his arm away from around her and allowing himself to walk the rest of the way. "Not long to go now Duncan. These reports will prove to be very appealing to M." The doors were pushed open. The early morning sunshine shone through the windows. The polish gleamed once again. M was standing next to the window. He was staring across the lawns upon which the birds fluttered about looking for food. Bond slumped himself back into a seat. M looked up from his paperwork.

"Ah, just the two people I wanted to see. Had a good night Duncan? I'm sure you have. Now Miss Valentine, if you would be so kind as to pass me the test results." M continued to stand over Bond. Bond was breathing heavily from sheer exhaustion. "By jove man with results like these I should have sought for you sooner. I must congratulate you." Bond was not up to any of this. Sleep was number one on his list of priorities.

"Will you please give me some answers now?"

"Oh yes certainly." M put the file down upon the desk, which was now covering part of the reflection going into Bond's eyes. "What would you like to know first?"

"Well for starters. Who are you?"

"We are the Ministry, The highest secret service possible. We are solely here for the protection of this country, which is to be carried out by all means necessary. We generally carry out Top secret missions on behalf of her majesties government. Calypso is our codename for the Ministry. It helps to lower the suspicion and equally does not reveal much.

"And why have you chosen me?" M leant back in his seat; it seemed to tilt on an axis.

"You have been chosen for past, present and hopefully future services. Do you remember being back at Oxford. Sneaking out? Well you were being watched."

"By whom?"

"My Father, Duncan. He was watching over all of us. He is them."

"What does he have to do with all this?"

"My father served Queen and country all his life. Not once did he put a foot out of place. The moment he was promoted into this position which I am now in charge of today, he instinctively knew something was up. His missions had taken him all over the world. He fought against the worst and worked with the best. But all good things must come to an end. I guess he could feel the storm clouds approaching." Bond listened even more intensively. "He decided an heir needed to be cast and quickly. Someone who could be trusted no matter what. He monitored everyone he could think of, friends, family and fellow colleagues. Finally after hearing me talk about us at college and the mischief we got up to." M stopped and thought deeply. The atmosphere in the room was solemn. "My father liked to hear those stories. Used to tell me, it gave him a change from job. Of course I did not know he worked in this type of environment. I always thought he was just a sort of foreign property builder. Always going away and always returning with new cuts and bruises. But no. In the end he knew what to do. He issued a monitor onto us. The Ministry has been watching me, you and all our friends since we left Bond. Think how long ago that was. I was too be his heir. I was to take over his role. I knew the monitoring had to continue. We have had so many fails, so many attacks upon this country in the past few years. I knew it was the right time to call you in. Your skills are exceptional. We now have so many reports to justify this. You are so perfect. You are neither attached to anyone or a slack worker. It's all been monitored. I am asking you to come join us, to help Queen and country for what is best for the citizens." Bond gave a small laugh. Was what he was hearing true. Did they really want him to work for them? What right did they have to be watching over him?

"M, I need to think. Is it ok, if we finish this conversation later? I really need some sleep. I can give you an answer then, I promise." M nodded and instructed Lovely to show him to his room. This all seemed too much for Bond to cope with. They set off upstairs, where a room had been prepared for Bond's arrival. He had no luggage with him; the clothes he was wearing had begun to smell pungent. Bond made a mention to Lovely about this.

"Don't worry" she said. "I shall have someone send up a fresh set of clothes for you straight away. Anything else you need?"

"No that will be fine, seemed like you have catered to everything." It did not take long for Bond to fall asleep. The bed was very soft, possibly too soft for his liking. He awoke a few hours later in time to find the clothes had been neatly laid out on a nearby chair. He removed the cover off of himself and went to investigate. The clothes looked awful. They did not fit Bond at all. His belongings had not arrived yet. He made some quick adjustments to the fabric. The razor which Lovely had left in the bathroom now came into much use. Bond was somewhat of a dab hand at fixing almost anything. A boring life as a student meant he had plenty of time to tinker about with different items. The few hours of sleep had done him well.

Now instead of lamp lit. The hallways had the sun shining bright through the random dotting of windows. Bond had not been told how to get in contact with the others once he had woken up and he was too tired to remember the way. He did not bother to wait in his room. He still needed answers. No one seemed to be moving about on this floor. Bond continued to search. In this light he was able to get himself a proper layout of the manor. Bond paused at a window and peered out. A garden, at least the size of a football pitch covered what was the two sides of the driveway leading up too the front of the house. The fountains still spewed out their vast showers of water. A sudden tap upon his shoulder startled Bond. "Good to see you up. I've spent some time looking for you. M wants to know if you wish to continue the conversation now."

"Any chance of breakfast first?" said Bond. She laughed.

"Sure we can, but we mustn't take too long. He is desperate to see you."

"Of course." They made their way downstairs. It was not long until Bond was biting into a bacon sandwich and sipping from the cup of coffee beside him. "Good food." He said

"It always is." She replied. Bond smiled. They quickly finished the meal and started to walk on to Ms office.

The night had indeed proved itself worthy. Bond was in a new state of mind. He was ready for anything. The office was different in the daylight. No longer was there any lights shining down onto the desk, or the morning dawn burning into his eyes. With the room now lit, Bond could see objects previously hidden to him in the darkness. The walls behind M were covered in accolades and framed qualifications. His real name was of course blacked out by a strip on the frame. The bay window held a spectacular view. There were endless fields of grass. A dark cabinet dominated one of the walls. Nothing would have caught Bond's attention if it had happened to be an ordinary cabinet. But Bond had noticed something. A padlock was attached between the doors. "Please Bond, sit down. I hope the sleep did you good?"

"It did thank you." Bond pulled over a chair, whereas Lovely sat exactly where she had done before. Still curious as too the use of the padlocked doors, Bond enquired as too their use.

"Anything special in there?" Bond gave a subtle nod in the cabinet's direction.

"Oh, that's nothing, just a few bits and pieces." The desk was tidier, the files from before were now sitting in two neat piles. Bond thought this might be sort of in and out piles. "Now…have you come to a decision?" There was a long pause in the room.

"I only signed that letter on the grounds of sheer curiosity. Since coming here I have been put through a series of tests, asked to abandon parts of my life and finally the most important part shot at." Bond sounded angry. M could sense a negative reply coming along. "However, I have much longed to experience the old days once more, and on these terms I will join you." M was delighted at this.

"Thank you Duncan. Everything is going well I ask you but one favour. Can you keep a secret?" M did not leave the glare he had upon Bond.

"Of course." M shifted his eyes downwards.

"Then welcome to the Ministry. First things first, your codename. This is to remain close quarters and will stay with you at all times. Like this organization, your status here will only be acknowledged by word only. From now on you shall be known as 10K." Bond was fascinated. "You shall sign the government's official secret services act on your arrival back here." Puzzlement ensued throughout Bond's mind.

"What do you mean back here?"

"Your first mission is soon. I can see such an untrained, blunt tool like yourself can be surprised by this. But you shall be ready. Now, as for your equipment." M stood and walked over to the cabinet. Bond's focus shifted with his movement. M reached for a key attached to a chain in his jacket pocket. He unlocked the padlock, eventually tossing it too one side and opened the doors. The inside was packed with weapons. It too was dark, like its outside. The weapons inside were camouflaged very well. Bond could make out a few knives and a selection of guns. M reached in and selected a small handgun. Bond reached his hand out as M passed it too him. "Look after that gun well and it will look after you." Bond thought of memorising this saying. M moved to sit back down at the desk. He examined the various files in what Bond called the _"in"_ pile. "Everything you need to know about your mission is held in here. It should not prove too difficult for you. I want you to make a success of this. Here's the brief." Bond got ready to listen carefully. "We have reason to believe that an operative by the name of Donato Burnside is planning something big. All intelligence we have on the matter leads back to him. So far we have gathered that he is trading with a number of other countries in the way of oil, it's also possible in its refined source as petrol. We need you 10K to sit in on one of the meetings he is holding. Our contacts in the field have noted that one is due to happen tonight in Oxford, we need you too be there. You will be taking the place of another meeting holder. Who…shall we just say wanted out of this particular business venture? You will leave immediately for Oxford. Bring us back all information you can on the matter. This is not going to be easy and it won't be a test. You are going in for real. Try not to make a mess of this one." Bond nodded.

"Now Lovely shall monitor your training for the next month. That is her job, apart from being one of the most organized people I know. Whatever would I do with out her?" Bond suspected something. "She will help you to gear up. Now go make me proud, and for the love of God, get some proper clothes. You look like a damn shambles." Bond and Lovely both laughed. They then got up and moved out of their seats. Bond's first mission waited for him.

VII

Oxford

The stairwell that dominated the entrance hall concealed within it a secret. The wooden motifs seemed to carry on endlessly in the shades of brown patterns. Lovely walked to one side of these stairs and pressed upon a panel. Like magic, a door opened up. Bond could see a second set of stairs inside spiralling downwards. Small strip lights covered the distance downwards.

"Don't worry; this path will take you down to the garage. You just need to follow it until you meet up with the mechanic down there. You're going to need these however." She threw over a set of keys. "Those are for the Morgan. Take good care of it for me."

"I will do. By any chance have you any idea what this missions is about?"

"Nothing in the slightest. M only openly reveals plans for missions if they are required and even then he will only tell the selected members who are carrying it out." Bond sighed.

"That's too bad." He was hoping to gain some useful insight. Lovely could see that it was troubling him.

"Whatever it happens to be, I am sure it leads to something much bigger." Bond nodded, and turned to walk down the stairs.

"See you on my return." The passage was cramped to move through, but it was only for a short while. Bond opened up the stone door at the bottom. The immediate overwhelming smell of oil overcame Bond's sense of smell. He stepped out to notice the Morgan parked over by one of the doors.

"Hello" shouted Bond. No one answered back. "I guess he must be out on his lunch." Bond moved in and out of the vehicles noticing their age as he went. Some were practically as old as the house. The Morgan was just ahead. He noticed a work bench over to one side. "Well this has to be read some time." He pulled over a chair and removed an oily rag from the seat. He sat down and started to look through the file. Bond touched the red top secret marking at the top of each page.

_Date: 10th December_

_**Meeting-22**_

_**For immediate action!**_

_Eyes Only Status_

_INFORMATION: Due to a high volume of information being passed on through the secret services these days. It is becoming difficult for said organizations to focus all powers onto covering all areas. It is therefore agreed that, smaller lesser known agents be sent in too investigate. _

_ACTION: Deployment and infiltration of meeting-22 to be carried out at approximately seventeen hundred hours. The agent is then to travel to Oxford, gain knowledge as too the whereabouts of the meeting._

_Agent to sit in on meeting, and too monitor for all information relating to Operation D.O.V.E. Agent to then report all information back to Ministry. _

_~ M ~_

Bond reread the page, just to make sure that he understood what he had too be done. The following pages contained maps and various photographs. They each carried with them information on the people in the photographs. Bond memorized all of the important points. He was too head westwards towards Oxford. From here, the meeting would be taking place. Bond planned a route that would take him, there as quickly as possible. The watch on his wrist showed it too be three in the afternoon. He had only two hours to make it up there and get himself into position. Bond did not know what this mission expected of him. He packed up the file and took out the keys for the car. The rag was put back onto the seat.

"Hope she runs well for you." Bond was taken by surprise.

"What? Who said that?"

"Down here." From underneath one of the cars the mechanic emerged. He slid out on a board. The oil from the car had quite obviously been dripping onto him. His overalls were covered in large black patches.

"I said, I hope the car runs well for you."

"Oh yes, I am sure it will."

"Now I have made a few more changes to it and cleaned out the engine for you."

"Sounds good." The mechanic was oblivious to Bond only having just joined the Ministry.

"Well start her up then." Bond stepped into the car and turned the key in the ignition. It fired up beautifully.

"That's a nice sound" commented Bond.

"You had better believe it. Well I shall see you when you return. Can't talk, I have so much work to get finished by the end of today, must get back to it all." Bond bid him farewell, and pulled out of the garage. The driveway was just at the top of a large slope. Bond gave it a good amount of throttle. The car lurched upwards and out onto the gravel. He put his foot firmly down and the car set off down the driveway. The trees were bustling in the afternoon breeze. Hopefully the drive would be a smooth outing. He had to make this appointment on time. He had to make sure that the job was done well and precisely. He pulled out of the driveway, under the arch and out onto the street. The roads out in the countryside were clear enough for Bond to reach a decent amount of speed. He would reach the destination in no time at all. Bond decided to avoid the conventional path of taking the motorways. If the task was this important, then they already knew he was coming. Their own preparations would be taking place. Bond's anticipation with a hint of fear grew with every mile gained towards the meeting.

Sticking to the narrow country roads was a hypnotic experience. Each turn in the road proved to be more undiscovered scenery which looked much the same as the previous turn. Bond could not help but to think about Operation D.O.V.E. What did it entail? Bond wished that M had told him more on the subject. Such secrecy was proving to be difficult for him. He did not normally keep secrets. Of course he held a few to himself, but in general he preferred to be brash and very upfront to people. Distaste to keeping secrets was a part of life to such a high class figure. Bond's mind was flushed of most irrelevant things. "A healthy mind means a healthy life" he thought. It was just a shame that the same could not be said about his drinking habits. The sun was soon to setting over the trees. He was all but ten miles from his destination, a feat easily achievable in less than fifteen minutes. He was going to be at least half an hour early. "Excellent" he thought.

Oxford was the city of importance. It's over dominated crowding meant that anyone, male or female would indeed find it difficult to put up with. Bond suspected its original architects were imitating a Londonesque feel but on a smaller scale. But it was merely for the ability or a difficulty to escape from such a city that was probably the decider on the choice of venue. The city was controlled by a highly annoying one way road system. It took almost three times longer to find a place to park. Although Bond found driving in Oxford such a chore he had personally only driven in this city on a few occasions. He had occasionally been invited on behalf of the professors from the university. So Bond had a fairly good knowledge of the roads around the city. An alley along Turl Street was not the most ideal location for such an expensive car to be left, but it had to do. The large building to his right was hiding the sunset. Bond thought this was a good thing. Keeping his car in the dark would be ideal. The restaurant on the other side was closed. A sign in the door said it stayed open till eleven each night. But today it was closed for a private function. Bond could here the sounds of drunken businessmen walking around the bar. He remembered to empty his pockets inside the car. "I might as well be advertising for someone to steal this vehicle." He snorted out a short laugh. His belongings were hidden under the seat, strapped up together in a bag. He looked down at his watch. Four forty three in the evening. He still had a number of hours left too go. Time he knew he needed to spend finding Burnside.

VIII

Würfel-Rolle

The streets of Oxford were fairly busy this time of year. A number of people could be seen still shopping for that last minute Christmas present. It was apparent that Bond needed some help in locating Burnside. He continued to walk down the high street coming upon the turning for Victoria Court. Bond was puzzled, the searching seemed hopeless. He stopped and thought for a moment of any possible leads. He could hear a deep rhythm of music coming from around the corner. Bond walked past the front of a theatre and stepped out through an alleyway out onto Red Lion Square. The music appeared to be coming from a club situated onto the back of the theatre. The club looked very official. No illuminated signs, only the sounds of the music playing inside. Bond noticed a large crowd of people waiting to get into the place. He moved over to the ever-growing line and waited. A number of women turned and smiled as they saw Bond. His clothing was apparently suitable, although a full suit was not exactly the best thing to be dancing in. Bond watched as the line got further and further towards the door. The bouncer at the doors stopped the line from going in. Bond heard yet another noise, one which he recognised. The over powering sound of a car screeched loudly into the night. The car pulled up outside the club. Everyone turned to see who was about to get out. Maybe they were looking for a celebrity. Bond tried to push his way through so he could get a better look. He noticed a large man, in his late thirties stepping out the rear of the car. The door was being held open by another of his men. Bond continued to watch as the entourage of men walked into the club, bypassing the queues all together. "Burnside" said Bond. He was soon in the club himself. It was dark only the strip lights about covered the lighting in the club. Bond walked over to the bar. He ordered up a large scotch whisky. "Single malt and I'd prefer it if you would use ice cubes made from water closer to the source." Bond could not stand some of the more American whiskeys. The barman was all but happy to oblige. "Tell me, who was that who made such a Bond entrance?"

"Oh that's Mr Burnside, a very rich businessman. He usually heads this way on his trips to London. He is a very quiet gentleman, always surrounded by those bodyguards of his. You will be lucky enough to see him let alone talk to him."

"Well I'm going to damn give it a try."

"Good luck, the last person to try that ended up never being seen again."

"Where is Burnside now?"

"Burnside likes to play a certain game in the opposite room. If you can hike up the cash he will let you play. It's not an easy game though. Patience is the key."

"Do you know how much cash he expects me to have on me?"

"No, the amount changes every time he comes here. The higher the stake the more money he aims to make." Bond finished off the drink and headed towards the opposite room. The jazz music continued to blare away in the background. Bond tried to drown it out. It was no use. As Bond pushed his way through the dancers he could see the door to the next room. There were a number of bodyguards standing watch over the doorway. They blocked the view looking inwards. Through the darkness Bond came upon the guards.

"Make way, I am here to play against Mr Burnside."

"Invitation only" said the guard.

"But I was just in the area and heard that Mr. Burnside was looking for someone to play against."

"Do you have the money? It's a five thousand pound starter. Each turn after the stakes will rise by five hundred." Bond thought for a moment. He had to get in on the game.

"I do." The guards moved to the side allowing Bond to enter. He was immediately besieged by a number of people. A concierge to the game approached Bond, took him by the arm and escorted Bond over to the cash office. "How do you wish to pay?"

"Cash of course" Bond handed over a large wad of money. It was compulsory of every agent to carry at least a few thousand pounds with them at all times. The treasury was easy going with the money being used for national safety or at least that's what they thought. The money was exchanged for some small tablets, each marking a different denomination. The red tablets were a hundred, the blue tablets five hundred and finally the yellow tablets which came to a thousand. Bond turned and carried the tablets within his hands and pockets. He stared at the game commencing in front of his on the baize table. The game was played with dice and it was the aim to get the closest to the number the dice landed on. The distinctive eyes looked around the crowd. His mop of blonde hair wavered to the side of his face. A scar ran roughly quarter of the way across his forehead. Bond looked closer, he noticed that Burnside's eyes were of different colours. His left was a dark shade of green whilst the right eye was light brown. Bond took a step forwards. He was leant close looking over the table. He saw that Burnside wore the finest suits of the times. Bond recognised it as a Versace a fashion, Bond struggled sometimes to pull off. The gloves Burnside wore were made of the finest leather. Bond could not feel comfortable working within such proximity of evil. He could see Burnside meant business and would go about getting it any way possible. Bond looked down at his watch. The second dial ticked round. It felt as if time was going slow. Burnside was surrounded on all sides by his henchmen. A small Asian man was playing against him. Burnside sure as hell knew what he was doing. The man looked scared for his life. The sweat was running like rivers down the temples of his head.

"Your move Mr. Liu."

"Three hundred on twelve."

"Four hundred on nine. You seem to be taking the easy route here Mr. Liu I must say. It will not see fit with me." Mr Liu picked up the three dice and placed them inside the beaker. He shook the beaker with much vigour. After tilting the beaker slightly the dice rolled out. The result was a three, a two and a five. The dealer watching over the game moved the dice closer to him. "Ten, our winner is Mr. Burnside, closet number."

"Mr. Burnside" said Mr. Liu "Please spare me the humiliation."

"You should have thought about that when you decided to go behind my back." Burnside lit a cigarette and placed the holder back down on the table. Mr Liu looked the worse for wear. Bond watched as events unfolded. Burnside raised his hands and two guards appeared. He did not need to say any words the guards knew what they needed to do. They picked Mr. Liu square off the seat and carried him across the room, out of the door. Burnside did not even look up at the man.

"Seat open" said the dealer. He took another drag of the cigarette then addressed the small crowd in the room.

"Anyone want to play me? I still have an hour left before I go. I hope to make an even bigger profit in the mean time." Bond took his chance. He slipped down into the empty seat in front of Burnside. Other seats around the table were soon occupied by other players. Bond slipped a large pile of tablets into the space on table.

"Three players in. Game start. Five thousand beginner with a five hundred round fee. Winner takes complete pot after all other players are out" Burnside kept his eyes looking down at the large pile in front of him, tossing the required five thousand into the centre of the table. The other players did the same. Bond threw his share, and then looked up at Burnside. The cigarette was coming to its end.

"Five"

"Fifteen"

"Ten" said Burnside

"Eight" said Bond. The dice were rolled by one of the men.

"Seven" said the dealer. Bond had won this hand. One of the men immediately left, leaving the room in a hurry. It was not his lucky night. It was an expensive game to play. As the barman had said only those people who could buy there way in were invited. Leaving in a hurry would probably be the best bet. Staying around may lead to consequences on Burnsides part. The next round went the other way. Burnside won the round gaining himself back into the game. There was still a chance he could win it all. The other man left at this point. Was it compulsory for the losing hand to leave after each round? Unsure of the full rules. Bond continued on, by throwing another five hundred pounds into the centre of the table.

"Final round. Winner takes all." Burnside looked seriously at Bond. Was Bond going to let him win or take his chances and take the money. "Bets gentlemen?"

"Ten" said Burnside.

"Twelve" said Bond. It was Burnsides turn to shake the dice. He did so, spilling the dice across the table. They landed easily next to Bond. Twenty four thousand five hundred pounds fell on this roll.

"Eleven" said the dealer. "It is a tie game gentleman. As Mr Burnside is our current reigning champion he will decide the outcome." The dealer looked at Burnside. "Sir, do you wish to split the money or continue?" Burnside looked at Bond. The stare was menacing.. It pierced into Bond, looking to see if there was something bad about him. Bond thought he was looking death in the face. A moment passed, Burnside reached for another cigarette but refused a light when someone offered.

"I shall split the money."

"As you say sir. Twelve thousand two hundred and fifty pounds to each man." Bond stayed seated, as Burnside stood up. He walked around the table to Bond.

"I do not care for your name, but I should wish you a good game. I like the style you play. You're even luckier to still be winning. I like men like you. I see I can trust you. Too be frank I am in need of your services, per ce for a large sum of money. All I need is for you too take down some notes. Are you interested? No one is too know of this meeting. Keep it under you hat. You've been warned." Bond made out that he had to think about the answer.

"I will do it."

"Good, meet me at this address at seven. Don't be late." Burnside stood up straight, patted Bond on the back and left the room. He was followed closely behind by his guards. Well Bond now knew where the meeting was too be held. All he had to do now was to play it cool and get the information.

IX

Information to kill for

The meeting location was hidden well. An archway with a large set of wooden doors on Broad Street was all that Bond knew of the meeting. His memory served him well as he rapped upon the door. Just like how Bond had seen in the movies a hatch in the top of the door, slid open. A pair of eyes looked piercingly down at him. "Evening" said Bond. He could distinctively hear a grunt from behind the woodwork. The slot moved back into position. The door creaked open to reveal a very large man with the thickest five o'clock shadow across his face that he had ever seen. Neither spoke any words for a moment. The man turned his head and looked back up the road in either direction. Once he was satisfied about this, he commanded Bond to follow. Bond did so. He entered in through the door. Unknown to him a second man was sat behind the door. He immediately rose once they had both moved in. The second man then closed the door and followed behind Bond. He was trapped between the two men. He dared not make a move if he felt he was in trouble. It may have been fair to say that taking down the one man would have proved to be difficult on its own. But two would be classed as a miracle. The inner sanctums of the building harboured many things. A number of fireplaces were placed in each room they passed through. The windows were all covered in dirt and the intrusion of ivy. Many desks, too many for just one person, littered each of the rooms. Their rotten presence and layers of dust from years of neglect brought down the mood. This building was most likely to have been used as an office. Bond could see that no one had been here in a while. The walk to the meeting room was long. They had passed a Bond staircase. Similar to the one at the ministry and similar to items in this building, in the state of repair it needed. Though the room they had eventually entered was different. Everything looked brand new. The chairs, the table even the windows looked like they had been recently cleaned. Sitting at the table already was a number of people. Bond quickly made a mental note of what they all looked like. He was planning to add onto this with where they were all sitting in relation to him. Bond felt the butt of his handgun press into his ribs. It was a reminder that each person sat around the table would also be armed. There were too many people here to kill at once. He tried to forget about the weapon. At the end of the table was the host of the meeting.

"Well let's get this meeting started. Let me introduce everyone to you. My name is Donato or Mr. Burnside to you. Sitting to your left is Mr. Potts, Chief engineer on our project. To your right is Mr. Dwarf, our treasurer. The rest includes Mr. Emerald and his wife and finally Mr. Coltrane, he is in charge of making sure that my workforce is running properly. Well gentlemen. Let us begin. Mr. Crane will be taking note on these proceedings throughout. Please decline all fear you have. A very reliable source was contacted and Mr. Cane was dispatched to us." This, Bond knew as a half truth. Though the name of Mr. Crane was a nice touch o his secrecy. Originally Bond's contact had been picked up and spilled all the information he had in return for freedom.

"I still think this is dangerous" called Potts.

"Well please do have some faith." Bond had meanwhile produced the notepad and pen which he had brought with him. The meeting was now starting. Bond's hand moved away, writing down as many notes as possible. He had to keep a face to the real work. Bond was busying himself by shuffling the papers whenever he could. The alternative motif was to get as much information upon each person as he could. The meeting started like any other. The minutes processed from the previous meeting were being read out. This seemed to drone on, and meant that Bond had to memorize much of the information included. It would have been strange for someone to be writing down something that had already been discussed. After a while the real information started to pour out. Bond watched around the room as every other member was staring inattentively over at Burnside. The guards were standing with their backs to the door. Whatever was about to be discussed, they did not want anything to be leaked. Bond continued to write down all of the important points. "People, I want to make you all fully aware of what we are dealing with here. Of course we have all made the relevant advances in each of our areas. But what is it all for? Well today I am going to reveal such." He brought a briefcase up onto the table. Black in colour with the gold lettering embedded into the works. With two clicks he opened it up. "Here we have it gentlemen. The hidden treasure." Bond was unsure exactly what he was holding up. It looked rouge in colour. The type of red designed onto to install fear into the common man. This gentleman is going to make us rich beyond our dreams."

"What is it?" questioned Emerald. "I am still in charge of carrying out the installation of such item?"

"You are indeed and I shall explain all." Bond's mind clicked back into control. He scribbled some more notes down onto the paper. "This is XCELL. The most deadly weapon this side of the world. It has the ability to wreck havoc upon any city I desire, London for instance. XCELL is like a bomb with the exception of its power. It lies close too being on the scale of a 100-ton hydrogen bomb. The liquid that flows inside here is made of the purest and highest chemicals known to man. The British Governments most privileged scientists would just love to get their hands on this formula." He placed it back into the briefcase slowly and made sure it was locked. "Seeing as how Oxford claims to be of such a high academic society, I thought; why not hold the meting here." Everyone including Bond stopped and looked up.

"Are you trying to tell me? I have been funding terrorism?" said Dwarf

"Ah no, not yet. Terrorism is defined as the use of violence and threats to intimidate the governments. But I have not purpose to commit either…yet. The plans are a bit shaky at the moment. But I shall say only this. The capital city of one of the most prized places in the world is going to look extremely promising lying in disruption."

"That is insane. You cannot just destroy an entire city" called Potts

"Oh I don't plan to destroy anything. My threats will be made all clear soon enough. With the help of XCELL I shall overthrow their government. We are calling this Operation D.O.V.E."

"What does that stand for?" said Coltrane. A look of smugness appeared across his face.

"The Divine Order of Vicious Element, it links well onto the weapon." Bond felt hot under the collar. Throughout the entire meeting each of its members had in turn peered over to see what Bond had been doing. Their eyes burned into him like hot coals. He needed to take a break. He needed to leave the building immediately. This would be difficult. But he had an idea.

"If you would excuse me Mr. Burnside, but I am in need of a bathroom break. Would you mind if we put this meeting on hold for five minutes." Burnside scorned another burning look in his direction.

"If we must." Bond scooped up the papers as he rose from his seat. "Hurry back though. I don't pay you for these interruptions Mr. Crane. We have much to talk about." Whatever it happened to be, he could not hang around. He felt like he was getting himself in too deep already. The door was still being blocked by the two men.

"Excuse me" asked Bond. Neither of the men moved. Burnside nodded.

"One of them shall follow you. Make sure your not up too any funny business." The men moved out of the way and the better built of the two followed Bond. He directed him of the exact route he wanted him to take. The toilet was one of the worst rooms; he had ever been in before. Everything was so dark. The light was only getting in through a broken vent attached onto the wall.

"Hurry up" said the guard, his deep voice bellowed throughout the room. Bond tried to form a plan in his head. He stuffed the papers into his jacket pockets and made like he was busying himself. The guard was getting impatient. Bond tried to look over the door in order to determine exactly where the guard was standing. Luckily he had his back to the door. Now if only there was something Bond could use to knock him out. Nothing was here that would do the job. Trying too smash the porcelain over his head would serve against him. Bond thought more. The guard was beginning to reach his tolerance of waiting. Bond could hear the grunts once again. The only way to carry this off would be for Bond to take him on one on one. He had to take the chance that he could somehow overpower the guard into collapsing to the floor. He eased the door to the cubicle open and walked slowly as if on egg shells right up behind the guard. He did not flinch. Bond kicked his leg out between the guard's legs. This seemed to catch him by surprise. Bond then jumped slamming his elbow down into his back. The guard had his breath knocked out of him temporarily. Bond stepped over him and made sure that the papers remained safely in his pocket. He made his way back along the hallways until he came upon the front door. The daylight hit Bond like a blessing. He felt like he was free once again. Nothing was going to stop him now. Nothing that is, except for the second guard coming up the rear. By opening the door, an alarm system had been triggered. Everyone from the meeting had scattered away. Hiding in the various safe houses they had made around the city. The guards had been summoned to track Bond down and get the papers back. He made his way back up Broad Street, along the numerous alleyways back to the one on Turl Street. Surrounding his car were a number of tramps. A loud expletive was shouted by Bond. They jumped as they saw this man running towards them. Bond fiddled to get his key into the lock. The sound of the click signalled Bond for his getaway.

The streets around Oxford are long and winding. It would be difficult for anyone to find him out here. That is of course, as long as you were familiar with all the different available routes. Unluckily for Bond the guards were those sorts of people. This was going to be a fight to the end for one of them.

X

Chasing death

Boring was no longer a word Bond would have used to describe the roads leading out of the city and back into the countryside. He raced through every corner, making sure to check in his mirrors as he went. The guard's car was being driven all but half a mile behind. They were gaining distance quickly. Bond was now putting the car fully through its paces. He could hear both the wail from his cars engine and the same coming from his pursuer's car. The car they were using looked fairly new. Its metal work shined in the sun. Bond recognised the cars badge in his mirror. The badge was of an eagle. A new looking Porsche 356b. The 1959 model would soon catch up with Bond or close enough for some serious damage. The car had a top speed of a hundred and ninety nine miles per hour, whereas Bond's Morgan would only edge in front slightly. On these roads, Bond was not going to test out the car too its full speed. It was too dangerous to carry that sort of driving. Bond realised that the guards car must have been parked right next to the building. It was the only way they could have possibly started chasing him. Bond looked once again into his mirror. They had cut their distance by half. Soon, they would be right behind him. He tried to think of the options he could take. The roads bent even sharper. Bond had to push hard on the brakes to make sure he made it round the bend without crashing. Every time this happened the following car gained a little bit more of the gap. Whatever plan Bond decided to go with it had to be done fast. Thankfully years of living in the same area, allowed Bond to memorize the surroundings. He noticed there being a gate a few miles ahead. If he could reach it, then there was a good chance he could make his escape. There was no need for him hiding the car. That would be impossible. The guards would simply turn around and check to see where he had gone. No, he had to be cunning, just like luring an animal into a trap. Bond was now going to do just the same. The gates all lead onto the back of fields. He had to pick his moment correctly, any mistakes now would mean an end that Bond did not wish to be part of. A mile or so later, Bond made the car move flat out along a straight piece of the road. The guards still gaining pace were now only a hundred meters away. One of the guards decided to fire random shots at Bond's car in the hope of wounding its driver. This was it. All or nothing. The gate was wooden. He had to burst through and cross the grass a short way. Bond spotted a turning ahead. It was going to take precision to carry out. Turning too late or even too fast would result in disaster. Bond eased off the accelerator just a bit. The gate was no more than a hundred feet away now. He jammed the car fully, left hand down with the steering wheel. The car burred and started to move into a skid. Bond shifted his hands as to correct this with the car. As the car turned towards the gate, Bond momentarily caught a glimpse of the guards trying to carry out a similar manoeuvre. They were successful. The splintering of wood upon the front of Bond's car, sent shards flying through the air. He ducked his head to avoid being hit. The grass was being flicked up across the sides of the car. Lovely was not going to be happy with the state he brought it back in. He was making his way across the field, the wheels skidding in the grass. The guard's car also made it through the gate. But only just. The back end of their car hit the side of the gate, smashing out one of the rear lights. Bond looked in his mirror. The guards were still shouting, firing as they drove. Bond made his way to execute the final part of the plan. He saw his destination just up ahead. He increased his acceleration and moved to the far end of the field.

The end was covered in a thick overgrowth of hedgerows, trees and piles of compost. But what was also included was a pond. A large pond, one which looked deep. Bond skidded his car to a halt on the far side of the pond and he made a quick exit. He moved too behind one of the car doors and took out his gun. The guards were just up ahead. The gun recoiled in his hands with an almighty burst. Bond held on with all of his strength. The bullets hit the cars bodywork. Impaling themselves into the rubber. The car was getting closer. "Just got to seize that perfect moment." The guards slammed on the brakes. They had just realized the pond ahead. They turned sharply to avoid falling in. Bond saw his moment. He fired off a lucky shot into the tyre on the left side of the car. The tyre instantly burst, causing the car to go into a spin. It rolled over onto its side and continued on in its path towards the pond. The next thing Bond remembered was the sound of the car hitting the water. The car was now sinking upside down. Bond watched as the two guards struggled with the door trying to get out. Neither could equal the pressure bearing down against the doors. "Better leave it be." Bond could hear the screams coming through the windows. Those screams were different. The screams of someone afraid, someone scared to die. Bond smiled to himself. He stood back up, placed the gun back into its holster and made his way back into his car. The engine was still running. He released the handbrake and now gently placed his foot down onto the throttle. The car moved away slowly, churning up more mud as it went. The field was now a mess of tyre tracks. The smashed gate was on the other side of the field. Bond would personally send a letter to the owner apologizing for the mess. The letter would be crafted so that it looked like an accident had occurred and the car had lost control on the road. Bond sighed some relief as he sat back relaxed in the seat of the car. The Ministry was only up the road. A half hour drive away and he could tell all. On the way he reached over to the glove compartment. Here he had hidden the documents. He tuned the radio onto radio four. The news reader explained of a disturbance occurring in the city of Oxford. How members of the emergency services would be investigating. Bond gave another faint smile. It was time to head home. For a brief moment Bond pulled over onto the shoulder of the road. Bond had only stopped upon noticing a public telephone. It was situated in the middle of nowhere. He needed to call on ahead to the Ministry. Make them aware of the situation regarding the sunken car. It was a short conversation. Bond had to head on back to the Ministry. The evening had already proven to be as dramatic as the day.

The night had now drawn in over the horizon. Bond flicked on the headlights of the car, only to discover one seemed to be fully working whilst the other turned itself on and off intermittently. Home is said to be where the heart is. Bond's heart was, and had always been, in Henley. The rush of adrenaline felt great, but there was something missing. He had now proved himself in the field of fire. He had done it. He was able to once again feel the same excitement and tension he had experienced as a teenager only on a Bonder scale. But his old life was slipping away by the moment. Would he ever get to see the same faces again? Or was he just a secret? His friends and neighbours may be wondering where he was, all he asked, was too go back for one more night. Sort some things out. But this was not his decision. It was a decision that had to come from a higher source. He needed to talk to M. The sound of gravel being thrown about under the cars tyres was a welcoming sound. The car was in some state. A few parts had been knocked off during the chase. Bond pulled the car round towards the garage. The door was still open. He eased the car back down into its original space. The cars engine did not sound too good. Bond exited the car. "Hello? Is there anyone in here?" There came no reply. Bond presumed that the mechanic was busy elsewhere. With the papers in his hands he headed back up the stairs. It looked weird, someone suddenly emerging out of a door in the stairs. The hallway looked busy as always. People in well pressed suits walked too and fro. Bond, using his geography of the building walked down the corridor to Ms office. The walls were covered with the pictures of past royalty. Ms secretary was sitting behind her desk. Bond had never had the pleasure of speaking to her before. He strolled over and stood just in front of the desk. Her nose was pressed into some paperwork and barely glanced up to see who had arrived at her desk. "Please take a seat. M is a very busy man, I hope you have an appointment?"  
"Just tell him 10K has returned." She immediately shifted her head upwards.

"Sorry, I did not realize you're an agent." Her hand moved over to the set of buttons on the other side of her desk. She pressed in the button marked "AGENTS."

"Don't worry. I am new here. Mistakes are made. May I know your name?"

"Sandra, Miss Silvertorne to you."

"Miss? That surely cannot be. But you're so beautiful. You could have any man you wanted." Bond's flattery could get him anywhere.

"You're much the same. But I fear no man shall ever fulfil my needs."

"Maybe it's time you lowered your needs."

"Maybe" She smiled. The buzzer on Silvertorne's desk burst into life. "M is happy to see you now." Bond turned and knocked upon the door.

"Come in" called M. Bond opened the door. M was looking up from the paperwork upon his desk. He looked as if he was waiting for something special. Bond sat down in the chair directly opposite to M.

"I have the documentation for you. It wasn't easy to do. I had to kill two of the guards on the way back."

"One guard you mean."

"No I am definitely sure it was two. They were both firing at me."

"We have recovered the car 10K. There was only the one body found. No obvious signs of an escape from the field." Bond was puzzled; he had watched the car sink. They both ought to be dead. "Well don't beat yourself up about it too much. I suspect he was just extremely lucky. I'm sure you'll find another opportunity to put him out of his misery." Bond handed over the papers. They had become creased with all the folding. M gazed over the wordings. "It seems like this Mr. Burnside fellow is back."

"You have seen him before?"

"No, only heard of him. He used to be small time, very small time. I didn't think he was capable of something like this. He must have been helped, probably made a deal through one of these other suspects. I am guessing the meeting was to talk over the details."

"Of course. I have written a piece about the others. They all looked very strange. They all spent much time listening to Burnsides plans before querying every last detail."

"Well, he seems to be the brains of the operation."

"By the sounds of it you did not know what to expect."

"In all honestly 10K…No. It was a risky move sending you in. I just so hope you have learnt some sort of lesson from this. You will be on your own in those situations. It's just you against the enemy." M lit a cigarette from a metal case, kept in his jacket pocket. "This is what you're up against. It's going to get difficult. I hope you're prepared for it."

"I hope so too." The thought of returning back to Henley had fallen from Bond's mind. Right now he felt differently. It was the excitement. He wanted more of it. That particular feeling people got when they knew they were doing something right. For Bond, it was taking on the worst scum brought in front of him, which just so happened to come with the added pleasure of carrying the missions out as a service for Queen and country. "So what do you think is going to happen now?"

"I'm not quite sure. You have indeed brought us some highly valuable information here. It may give us a clue as to what they are up too." M leafed through some paperwork, pulling out a single sheet. "If you could please sign this?" Bond quickly read the sheet.

"I presume this is the secret service act." M took another puff from his cigarette. He allowed the smoke to quell for a moment in his throat before blowing it out in one long breath.

"It certainly is. Though no need to read it all, just the usual business of stating the whole secret agent business. Of course there are a few ground rules. Firstly, never reveal our identity or location. Secondly, choose your friends wisely. You never know who could be working for the enemy. Lastly is too think before acting in any situation. We don't want too many mistakes. Though personally, I disregard the third. You may not have the time to think." M gave a wide smile. It looked sort of freaky in a way. He slid a pen over to Bond. There was a pause before he went ahead and picked it up.

"Here goes nothing." He signed his name along the dotted line, finishing up by dropping the pen onto the desk.

"Excellent. It's all official now. I can finally reveal to you their identities." This was the moment he was waiting for. "The main enemy is called COJ; their full name is the Council of Judges. They operate all over the world. It is our job, to make sure that their actions do not come into power. We have quite a long history against them. Each person who works for COJ runs their own separate departments. They come together every now and again to discuss plans. So far we have only managed to get intelligence on their activities and not on its members. I would not be surprised if Burnside was a part of COJ. I think we need to gather all the information we can get our hands on. The threats have not been made yet. We have people watching over all communications internally and externally from within the government. Your disruption in the meeting may have made them have to re-think their strategy. The information you have given us proves that something big is going on. All this about an attack on a capital city? Anything else too add?"

"No sir the capital city was not named."

"That puts us in a dangerous position. We have too come up with some possible places it may be. But overall we are in a good position. It means that we can proceed with getting you trained up further."

"Sounds like a good plan." Bond took the gun out of his holster and started to play about with it in his hands. "I shall head over too the shooting ranges. Just call for me, when you have some more information." Bond gave a smile towards M.

"I will do. Make sure you put the trainer through his paces."

"There's no doubt about that."

"Well, I suggest you start your training tomorrow. Right now, you should head off and get some rest." Bond stood up and smiled at M. He walked out of the room and made his way upstairs.

"Five hundred yards" said the instructor. Bond pulled down on the trigger. The bullet pierced the target with a respectable degree of accuracy. "Do you wish to try further sir?"

"Certainly, just bring it on and I'll give it a try." The morning was brisk. The frost was beginning to develop on the trees. The trainer turned one of the cranks by his legs. The target began to move further away. The distance was marked out with small signs.

"Coming up too six hundred. It'll be one hell of a shot, if you make this." Bond raised the rifle once again. His handgun was still firmly placed just under his armpit. The recoil from the rifle was causing his shoulder to jerk backwards over the guns metal work. Bond's arms had been taking plenty of damage all morning. Nevertheless he focused his eyes down the sights towards the targets. From this distance the three colours covering the targets, seemed to have merged into one. The instructor was right. The shot would be difficult. "Just take you time, feel the shot." Bond released the rifle away from him, shook his body as to get himself limber. He then returned to his original position. The wind was blowing ever so slightly. Not enough though to change the bullets path. Bond tried to block all distractions out of his mind. He curled his finger round the trigger. "Any moment now" he thought. With a burst the gun recoiled. The target was too far to see with the human eye, whether he had indeed made a hit or not. The trainer was looking through a pair of binoculars. It was difficult to tell. He reached down and began turning the handle in the opposite direction. As the target moved closer, it was clear to see that the target had been hit once more. "You're an amazing shot. In fact one of the best I have ever seen."

"Thank you."

"A little more practice and you could probably get even closer to the bulls eye, and possibly up too my standards." Bond had just picked off the shot into the last ring. A normal shooting target is divided into two alternative colours; this is to make it easier on the shooter. The colours are black and white. Starting from the outside the numbers run up to ten, which numbers the bull's eye. Bond handed the rifle over to the trainer.

"Thank you for the practice. It has really woken me up this morning. The shooting grounds were on the far side of the back lawn. Though like the rest of the house well hidden between two rows of hedges. Bond walked along the stone pathway and back up towards the house. He could see breakfast being prepared in the dining room. "I might as well pop in for something to eat." The back door was left unlocked. He entered to the presence of some fellow agents sitting round, all seeming to be peering over various folders. Bond sat himself down and called one of the waitresses over. "I'll have a full English breakfast and please bring me a copy of today's _Times_."

"Certainly." Bond sat back in the seat and continued to peer round. He started to fiddle with his hands, causing a clicking sound to occur. The waitress brought over a rack of toast along with the newspaper. The front page was dominated by a large picture showing what looked like to be the houses of parliament surrounded by protesters. Bond sank into reading the paper, whilst everyone else went about their business. His breakfast soon arrived. And with a slight wave to the waitress, he continued to read. The protesters had been demonstrating against a new "idea" from the government. It stated that, Britain would be helping its foreign partnerships with a number of their democratic problems, ideally those in Paris, Athens, Berlin, Rome, Lisbon and Madrid. Britain and the government in London were going to help fund these governments in carry out foreign actions. Bond read the entire article through. It seemed not much out of the norm for one country to help another. An article on the bottom of page six caught Bond's eye. He ate a sizeable portion of the breakfast before starting to read.

"_OXFORD IN MASS CHAOS"_

_The city of Oxford was disrupted yesterday evening, by a spate of high speed drivers. Council officials are looking into possible leads. Eye witnesses describe two cars one of which carried a lone man with dark hair driving erratically out of the city. This car was closely followed by the second vehicle which looked as too be chasing the first. Oxford City Council shall be looking, into this event, with many witnesses believing this too be a planned publicity stunt. _

The article continued with an examination of the cities roads and how the traffic calming measures had helped to reduce such events from happening. His breakfast had soon gotten cold. So, after folding the paper over and placed it beside his plate, he stood up and walked on through the opposite door. The corridor was busy as usual. It was time for him to head home. M had passed on a message this morning explaining about the research happening over Christmas. Bond had been advised to take some time off whilst the rest of the Ministry carried on with the hard work. He had packed his bag, before he set off for the shooting range. It was waiting for him to put the bag into the car. Bond was now homeward bound.

XI

Death of a lonely heart

Bond felt good. For once in what felt like a month he was able to sleep in his own bed. It seemed like his trip home was much needed. On his return he pushed the door to his flat open; and had to push away the post which had built up over the last few days. He bent over and picked it all up, carrying the few packages from different people with him. This was the old life. Bond had missed it being like this. The last few days had proved to be extremely exciting for him, and no doubt it was going to increase in the following year. Bond was now on leave until the beginning of January. Bond walked over to light the fire. It took him a few tries to finally get the flames properly going. He stood back up and removed his jacket. It was quickly flung over the side of his armchair. The windows were slightly fogged up. Bond walked into the bathroom. His old clothes were still lying on the floor. He cleaned up the mess he had left then waked out into the lounge. He could see outside the falling snow. This was Christmas. Just like how it had been in his college days. Bond found no need for a television; he enjoyed his evenings, either going out or sitting down with a book. He picked up the copy of the book he was reading and sat down in his chair like usual. He had only managed to read though one more chapter, when he suddenly started to struggle. This was no right. These menial tasks were boring. Bond stood, placed the book on the table and walked over to the window. With a tissue he wiped the condensation off of the glass. He could see it all now. The river looked icy cold. Bond could see a number of people walking about in the shops. The pub was open as usual. The chimneys of every shop and house were pumping out streams of smoke. The snow was still falling, and settling in wherever it landed. Bond walked into his kitchen. Hanging up behind the door was his overcoat and scarf. He picked both up and got himself dressed for heading out into the snow.

Bond trudged on through the streets. Everyone he saw seemed to have a smile upon their faces. The snow fell sporadically upon the pavement, their colour, not much now but a distant white. Bond endeavoured to walk on by. His greetings to those who walked passed greatly fell upon deaf ears. "Morning" cried a man. Bond was taken by surprise.

"Tad touch of bad weather we're having."

"Indeed." The man, just like the rest walked on. Bond did not know where he was heading. It had not crossed his mind as too a particular destination. He soon had made it as far as the pub. It would be full at this time; he would be darned to bother entering. In this weather, everyone would be looking for some kind of shelter. No, he decided to continue his aimless walking of the streets, allowing for the snow to slowly settle upon his clothes.

Bond found himself a half hour later walking along the river. The snow was still falling from the clouds. The river looked cold indeed. Only those very few brave birds that stayed for the winter months, were allowing their bodies to put up with such conditions. He had allowed his mind and feet take him wherever they went. Henley looked the same as it had done before and presumably the college had now realized, he would not be returning. His mind had been wandering for a good part of the walk. The snow was now thick enough for him to leave footprints. His feet seemed to be larger than he had thought they would be. It was the little things that got too him. But the wandering of minds was soon up. He now knew exactly where he was. The bench, the one he feared to sit at was just ahead. Beyond the gate was too Bond such a horrible yet solemn place to be. His mixed feelings over the years had never quite been quelled properly. It was the thoughts that occurred when he ventured to that one spot. Bond could see it was inevitable. He had not been here since last year at around the same time. The iron gate providing patrons the entrance to the path was frozen shut. Bond forced it round and walked through. The gravel path crumbled with smashing ice below his feet. Bond could see the place now. It was below an overhanging tree. Of course at this time of the year the trees were all bear. He placed his hands into his pockets, staring at the ground as he walked along. The bench with its back towards him looked desolate. Bond could feel it mocking him for his desertion. But he was afraid. He did not want to look upon it anymore. Bond made himself sit down upon the bench. It was cold and wet. He raised his head too look upon his personal horror. The gravestone was cold. Bond fell from the bench onto his knees. He held his hand out to touch the gravestone. A stream of tears fell from his face. They were the only thing warm in his entire world. The gravestone belonged to the one he loved. His mother's death had been tragic, taken in the prime of her life. It was before Bond had started at Oxford, that he had been informed of her passing. His mother was also an outgoing person and loved to take walks along the river just like Bond enjoyed doing. But unfortunately she stepped off the side of the road too soon and was not seen by the driver of a car. No one in his family had spoken since the funeral. His father left for another country too distraught too return home. Bond knew he did not mean to abandon his family. It was just a difficult time for him. His death was confirmed through a telegram. A bout of illness had proved his final downfall. His Bondparents helped Bond through his studies. But they too, both died during his second year. It was only a few months between each passing away. "The death of a lonely heart." Bond was now alone in the world. His parents and even their parents had been major industrialists, both working together to run the family business. His mother came into the job after starting out as the company secretary and then was quickly falling in love with Bond's father. They soon were married and she became a joint owner. At one stage they were the proud owners of one of Britain's largest steel works, making them millions each year. A large heap of unpaid debts awaited Bond after his parent's funeral. The money was sought out by the tax office and several bailiffs. Though what was left was a huge amount. He saw it as enough for him to live his life at least twice over. He was happy with the money he was left, but in the end he still wanted a life. This he decided, meant him going out and getting a job. The deaths had been the hardest step to come to terms with. He had never fully gotten over the fact that they were gone. His maturity at the time of their passing was exceptional, but it still brought him too tears each time he thought about them. Unbeknownst to everyone else Bond had once contemplated suicide. With no one else in this world to love him or make him happy it was an option he did not want to make. How could he make them proud? He was only a teacher. But now he was a secret agent. Different jobs completely. Bond had wondered on many occasions, what his parents had wanted him to turn out like. What job they thought he would go into. He was no the business type and so would not have liked working in the factories, despite the huge amount of money too be made. There were too many questions needing answers in his head. But they were all too late to be answered by the people who truly knew the actual the answers. Christmas was bringing him down. The benches wetness soaked in through his clothing. "Have be with it" he said.

His demons were now all confined to this cemetery. All except those which stayed with him. He could not have stopped his mother from going out that day. His Bondparents' death was inevitable too. He just wished he could have said his goodbye's to each one of them. He sat still staring out at the graves. Still shedding tears onto the cold ground. The snow was even colder for him upon his neck but he could not be bothered to move. This was a solemn moment. This as the day proved to be was how Bond was spending his Christmas Eve. His sitting and thinking was never going to bring them back. He knew this. But to visit their graves was all too much of a bad a memory. No one was there too see him get his diploma. No one saw him attend his first ever job. No, he was alone now in the world. Although he showed no hatred for his father his plan to never return to England got to Bond. All he wanted to do was to see him one more time. But there was no chance that was ever going to happen. Bond had spent a long time staring at the gravestones and thinking. His thoughts were in somewhat of a mess. He could not think straight whilst he was here. Bond realized what he had too do. He would carry on making them proud. It would have been what they would have wanted him too do, or would it? He was confused. His head was filled with a thousand thoughts all happening at once. He reached into his coat and brought out his gun. He could end it all now. They would all be happy, the first happy Christmas for Bond in a long time. But would he be getting what he really wanted? He raised the gun up to his head, paused for a few seconds then lowered it back down. Something was not right. This all felt wrong. He was a protector of the people now, order of the queen. That had to mean something.

Bond stood up and began to walk away. "I will return, soon. I promise." With that he continued back out of the graveyard and back onto the path by the river. The birds were still messing about in the water and the snow was still falling at a heavy rate. Bond placed his hands into his pockets and walked slowly home. The snow was continuously turning back into water after it fell onto his neck. The tears had stopped running down his cheeks. He was going to be alone this Christmas. All he had now were his memories. The walk back to his flat was a long one. He felt differently for some reason. People were still welcoming him a good morning. But he was just ignoring them. He needed to get home fast. The door to the flat was stiff to open with all the coldness. Bond wondered what to do. He first went into the kitchen to make himself a drink. The hot coffee felt good moving down his throat. He walked around the flat aimlessly once again. He was all alone. Something however caught his mind. It was in the kitchen. Sitting on the table was a letter. It was among the pile he had not looked through yet. It was in a brown envelope. It looked very much like a bill of sorts, but that marking on the front. He had seen it before. It was them; yes the Ministry had sent him a letter. He immediately picked this up and sat in the chair in the middle of the lounge. He hastingly ripped the envelope open. The letter inside was not one of the printed type, it was handwritten. Bond read the letter through several times over. Each time, somewhat forgetting to read who had sent it too him. He finally calmed himself down long enough to read that it had come from Lovely. He was shocked to finally hear from her again. He was excited. He must read it again.

_Dear Bond,_

_I hope you are having a good time off. I too have left for home. I cannot wait to see you again once we return. Hope you enjoy the rest of the Christmas holidays. I must admit I was sceptical of you in the beginning. But I hear you caused quite a show in Oxford. You know, this is exactly what it is going to be like on a day to day basis. Hopefully we can find the people responsible for these threats._

_There have been many agents too walk through the doors of the Ministry. Many of which decide this type of job is too risky for them. We find these people slightly annoying and a bit of a waste of time. At least you look like you will be around with us for the long haul. M seems to know the right people to recruit. I am unsure what he is doing for Christmas, most probably spending it hanging around the Ministry. He is kind of a workaholic. Have you heard from him in the past few days? I have also sent you a small present. But I am not sure if it will turn up before the big day. _

_Well not much is happening here. I just have a few members of my family here for the Christmas holidays (If only they really knew what I did as a job. I can't keep answering questions about being a civil servant). We are all doing the usual things, eating lots of food and watching plenty of television. Hope you have some good times too._

_Hope to see you soon. Back to work in New Year!_

_Lovely_

Bond felt like he was now having a good day. The letter had been a relief too find. He was thinking what he would do now. "Stupid woman" thought Bond. The letter was a good sign, but Lovely had forbade a fundamental rule. She had personally sent the package through the postal service. Anyone could have found out where he lived. The mood became nerve racking. After a sweep of the flat he decided it was somewhat safe.

Christmas day for Bond was completely different. He had woken to find the snow had finally stopped. The few presents, which had found their way to Bond were soon opened. Miss Orico had sent him a copy of their new prospectus. Bond was soon to notice his name under the recently departed from the college. Lovely's present still had not turned up. Wondering what to spend this day doing, he decided to venture out of the flat once more and head on down to the pub. It was like tradition for Bond to spend his Christmas' here. Bond left the flat and walked down the road. He was within; arms reach of opening the door to the pub, when a thought came to him. This year, for the first time in half a decade he would not be spending this day sat in those smoke filled rooms. Christmas was about being with friends and family. The previous day had given him time to remember this. He wanted to be close once again like he was with his mother. Bond moved out of the way of a couple trying to enter the pub. He quickly apologized and bowed towards them. Bond felt like he had been given a huge second wind. The road down to the river was covered in a very thick layer of snow. There seemed to be very little chance of him slipping up on the ice. Bond moved out towards the bridge. The other side harboured one of the lockkeeper's gardens. Bond knew this particular fellow and was also fully aware that he was a keen horticulturist. Sneakily and with very little thought, Bond entered into the greenhouse which stood at the far end of the garden. It was a specially designed greenhouse which as at least twenty feet in length. Numerous exotic plants lined the shelves on either side. Though Bond knew to never touch such plants on fear of them dieing or poisoning in which case you would be the one doing the dieing. No, it was the more common British flowers Bond was after. These were kept in a modified habitat near the back of the greenhouse, Adapted in order for such plants to grow all year round. He surreptitiously picked out a bunch of daffodils. Whilst making sure to leave the most minimal trace of him ever being there. Bond was becoming a genius at this work. The sliding back of the glass door was done with precision. Just like the trick used by the native Indians Bond retraced his footprints through the snow. Any possibility of more falling snow would quickly hide what was left. With the flowers in hand he headed back to his flat. He placed the flowers into a vase and put them close to the window. These flowers were for Lovely. He was not going to spend this day alone. Seeing that letter had done something to Bond's mind. Something had clicked. He was going to go see another old friend.

XII

Season's greetings

Elliot Oz was someone who truly knew the dealings of the business world. He had been at Oxford the same time as Bond had attended. He was a high flyer in the media world. The two of them were the best of friends and Elliot had joined in some of Bond's exploits sneaking out of the college. They had not seen each other in years, but Bond still knew where he lived. Luckily, it was close by. The roads would be a hazard in this weather. It would mean Bond having to walk across the fields. Not a problem. Once more he set out of the flat with his bag ready and set off out of town. Elliot lived in one of the neighbouring villages. It was a short walk but Bond had always been too busy to ever go see him. It would be nice for Bond to surprise an old friend like this. The fields were a blanket of whiteness. Only a few stray cows wandered throughout. Bond was soon hoping over the last fence. He had decided earlier not to arrive looking too formal. The village looked quite similar to the village used in his training mission. Bond walked along the side roads until he came upon Elliot's cottage, it was named likewise. The whole house was like something out of a dream. Elliot was a big shot but obviously liked the simple life whilst at home. Bond pushed open the gate and walked up the stone path. There sat a large knocker upon the doors wooden housing. Bond lifted the handle and knocked upon the door. There was that moment of not knowing who was going to answer. For all Bond knew Elliot could have packed up and left for Christmas, it was luck of the draw. The small window at the top of the door revealed the silhouette of a person. The door was soon open and indeed Elliot still lived there.

"Duncan, this is so unexpected, do come in. Just head on into the lounge. Isobel is in there, just make yourself at home." The inside was furnished with what looked like some very expensive items. Bond made his way into the lounge area whilst Elliot moved into the kitchen to get Bond a drink. The lounge looked very Christmassy; decorations were hung all around the room. Elliot's visitor was idly looking through the book she had been given that year. Bond sat down in one of the wing back chairs in the room. The noise caused Elliot's sister to turn round. "Oh hello, I did not see you enter."

"Don't worry" said Bond "I am a friend of Elliot. We both studied at Oxford."

"Ah" she said. "It was an all woman's college for me. So what brings you here?"

"I thought I might as well come see some friend whilst I am in town." Elliot entered holding the drinks.

"You working away these days then?"

"Unfortunately yes, pretty exciting business though."

"I know what you mean. One minute you're jetting all over the world to meet clients. The next you're sitting down to have dinner with celebrities." Bond simply nodded. He had told them the truth. Well, kind of. The talk of work ceased to continue that evening. Bond produced a present out of his bag, quickly having to apologize to Isobel for not bringing her a present, though if he had known he would have made the effort. The banter of the old college days brought back many memories to both Bond and Elliot. The clock struck ten in the evening. It was time for Bond to leave for home. He bid the two of them a pleasant Christmas and a joyful new year. He left with a wave and headed out into the darkness. The cows had all left the fields and the snow had definitely thinned out in all estimation. A single flash light from his bag was all he had to help him through the darkness. It was not until the second field that he heard a particular sound, a sound which caused Bond to sharply turn round. It sounded more like a bang, but not in the ordinary sense. Bond merely passed it off as his hearing playing up. The sound occurred again moments later. This time it was closer. Bond began to run. Closer and closer it came until it was on his heels. He darned not turn round in case he got caught. But it was too late. With a sharp smack to the back of his head Bond fell to the ground. He clutched at where it hurt the most, his eyes filling with tears of pain. A figure loomed over his writhing body. "You're dead." The figure seemed to walk around him. "What do you want?" cried Bond.

"You" shouted the figure. Bond wiped his eyes to get a better look. It was him. Yes, it was one of the guards who had been chasing him out of Oxford. The guard looked furious. "I have searched for days to find you. My boss will be happy I have found you. No more stupid little man with secrets." He kicked out at Bond hitting him in the ribs. The wincing continued within Bond. "I kill you here. Take your body to my boss. He is then happy." There was a hint of dumbness in his voice. More attacks happened. Bond tried to defend himself the best he could. But it was difficult. Bond momentarily caught glimpse of a gun. So, this was to be his death? Bond was prepared. He was carrying his own weapon. The watchful eyes of the guard never left Bond. The stars had finally come out of the clouds and were visible in the sky. "This is it, you die now." The guard pulled away his jacket and pulled out his gun. Bond picked his moment well. With a quick swipe Bond threw his bag over his body into the guard's hands. The guard was caught out for a few seconds. Bond bounded across the field, trying to get away from the guard. The guard steadied himself onto his feet to find that Bond was now running across the fields. The guard gave chase in the meantime, firing a few pot-shots at Bond. The fields were surrounded by many fences. Bond leapt like a hurdler over the tops of at least three stiles. The guard was pretty fast for his size. He was catching up quite quickly. Bond hid behind one of the many trees. "You cannot hide from me, boy. I can smell your fear." Bond tried to control his breathing. He was out of breath from the running. Bond peered momentarily round the side of the trees to find that the guard was wondering around with his gun raised. Bond needed to get hold of that gun. His breathing was slowing down greatly. Bond picked up a rock and threw it across the opening. It bounced from a tree causing such a bang. "Hah, now I have you." The guard walked over to the tree. He was looking very angry. Bond saw a good moment to strike. He ran as fast as he could towards the guard. He jumped in the air and landed a hard kick into the guards back. He lumbered forwards onto his front. Bond picked up the now dropped gun. He looked down the sight towards the guard. The guard mumbled something horrible as he clambered onto his knees. He looked up with the dirt on his face. Stood there holding the gun was Bond.

"No, it is time for you to die" he said. Bond only had to fire the one shot. The guard slumped onto his knees and then onto the grass. A single cow was the only thing that gave any sound. Bond stood up and dusted himself off, then placed the gun into his beltline. He kicked the guard to make sure that he was dead. Bond felt where he had been attacked. The pain reminded him badly of hash times. This was serious. They knew where he lived, and apparently when he was at home. He needed to return to the Ministry immediately. He needed to tell M of this new information.

Bond stumbled back to his flat. On more than one occasion, he had to stop and get the feeling back into his chest. He felt awful. Once he was inside his flat, there was no time to waste. Bond barricaded the door. To help ease the pain, he ran himself a deep bath. The frost from outside had numbed his fingers a considerable way down. He waited patiently for the water in the bath to fill the empty space. He poured himself a small amount of whiskey. This seemed to do the trick. The whisky was strong in his mouth. The taste burnt on his tongue; it lingered in his throat, before eventually dissolving away. Bond got himself undressed and stepped into the bath. The pain in his chest multiplied when the water hit the wound. He eased himself in lower so that his whole body was covered. Bond soon felt better, stepping back out of the bath and into some clean clothes. It was dark outside but Bond did not feel like going to bed yet. He walked over to his chair and sat down, staring through one of the books on the table. It was a book on adventures for boys. Many times he had gone through the book in a hope of one day living such adventures. This time he really was. Bond continued to read, until he dozed off to sleep. The comfort of the chair had helped him to ease quickly into a deep sleep. Bond was woken the following morning by a large bang at the door. He was startled enough to partially fall off of the chair. The banging continued to echo across his flat. After wiping away at his eyes, Bond walked up to the door, grabbed the handle and turned. Standing outside his door was Lovely; her family had all left for home and she had come over to see how Bond was doing. He explained about the previous nights events.

"Nice to see you, but I am heading back to the Ministry today."

"Good, can I offer you a lift?"

"Sure." Bond quickly brought together all the belongings that he thought he needed. He quickly made himself some breakfast, offering to cook for the two of them.

"Sure." Bond cooked up some food and they both sat down at the small table placed against one wall in the flat. The chairs were basic down to the choice in fabric covering the seat. The food was great to the taste buds.

"You're quite a good chef."

"Thank you. I perfected my skill whilst living on my own. Cooking helped me to overcome some problems."

"Well it is delicious." They both continued to eat their meals. Bond had gone all out in providing Lovely with the best he could. They both continued to eat their meals.

"How was your Christmas?"

"Oh the usual, the family came over. We did things together, swapped presents. Then everyone fell asleep."

"Well you know how my Christmas has gone." Lovely looked at Bond's face. There were a few cuts and bruises. Bond noticed that she was looking at him. "Don't worry they will heal."

"Let me heal them for you." Lovely stood up and walked towards Bond.

"What are you going to do?"

"Shhh" She lifted his head gently. Looked into his eyes and kissed him softly on the lips. Bond was taken aback by Lovely's advances. He had not been this close to a woman in at least a month. At least a woman he had been having feelings for. They both savoured the moment allowing it to last as long as possible. Lovely put her hands around Bond's neck continuing the embracing passion. Bond wrapped his arms around Lovely waist, pulling her closer to him. Bond was caught up with the love in the room. They both did not want it too stop. Bond moved back from Lovely. They looked at each other. They both smiled at each other. Lovely stepped away from Bond, allowing him to stand up. She grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him towards the bedroom. Bond let his hand slip away from hers.

"We can't do this."

"Yes, we can Bond. We both know we want too."

"I know, but I have a job too do first." Lovely spoke no words. "I'm sorry." Bond walked away out into the kitchen. Lovely stood there looking down at the ground. A pulse of anger swept over her. She stormed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen following Bond.

"I should not have come here. You're not the man I thought you were. You have a car yes?" Bond nodded. "Then you can get to the Ministry yourself." Bond was left in the kitchen. Lovely slammed the front door on the way out. Bond did not know what to do. He would have to go back to the Ministry. Bond felt that he would be returning here soon. He hoped it would be under happier circumstances..

XIII

An interesting start

Christmas was soon over; January was a busy time within the Ministry. Lovely had also reported coming back in at the same time as Bond, though he had not seen her in a while. Bond felt bad for what he had done those few weeks ago. He felt remorse for what he had done. The further they stayed away form each other the better. He just hoped she would not be too mad at him. The nurses at the Ministry had helped to fix Bond's ribs and to also give him a full physical. It was one of those mornings in which everyone was up and about early. M had not passed anything on for Bond too look through; neither had he called for Bond to come see him (Bond had kept quiet about his momentary lack in thought and did not reveal his almost sticky end in the cemetery). Bond, had already finished his shooting practice for that morning. He felt somewhat revitalized. Surprisingly more, since he had returned from Henley. He had not seen Lovely anywhere. Hopefully she was ok. He wondered as what to do now. After a quick think, he decided to head on back to his room. The stairs were being cleaned by a small team of cleaners. The smell of polish hung there lingering hopelessly in the air. His room was on the second floor. This was one supposedly of the more high profile rooms. Each of the Ministries agents were given one of these rooms too stay in. Set out like a small apartment, the rooms were ideal for an agents needs. Bond was beginning to make his own alterations to the room, giving it his touch of a homey feel. His bed had been made whilst he had been out. Some of the few belongings he owned were scattered over the set of drawers by the bed. The sun was facing in towards his window. He walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He emptied his pockets into the sink. The shower felt cool upon his back. His shoulder felt much better. By the time Bond had finally stepped out of the bathroom, the sun had moved further up away from the window. Bond started to adjust the cuffs of his shirt, he opted for a casual attire this morning, when he noticed something had been pushed under his door. A note had been folded over. No writing was present from what Bond could see. He bent down and picked the piece of paper up. He opened it to discover that Lovely had been to visit him. When he did not appear at his door she had decided to leave him a note. Apparently M seemed to be onto something and would like Bond to come visit him immediately. He threw the note to one side and picked up his jacket. The door to his room was slammed shut. It did not take him long to reach the desk of Miss Silvertorne.

"Back again are we?"

"As always" She pressed upon the button by her desk.

"So how is the training going?" She had stopped doing the paperwork in front of her. There looked like there were plenty of notes she needed to type up.

"Oh fine. I feel like I am on top form, ready to take on anything."

"Excellent. The buzzer gave its usual whining sound. Bond stepped into the next room. The smell of tobacco was too lingering in the air.

"Do take a seat 10K; there is much to be discussed. Tell me, what do you know about these new laws?"

"Only what I have read in the papers sir."

"Well let me tell you more. My teams of researchers have been working throughout the Christmas period. It turns out our friend Mr. Burnside is not as small time as we first thought. He is the head of NYX Chemicals. The company operates somewhere on a small offshore island based off the coast of Cornwall. It goes by the distinctive name of Kraken Island. Officially it is held in British waters, so we do have some sort of positive outlook as too investigations. It also turns out that the British government has been trying to work with Burnside to help organize several large shipments of chemicals to various chemical plants in each of the countries it has been dealing with. So far they have had little luck. No country has informed the Central European Bureau of any shipments being received. This could mean that the chemicals are still being held on the island. Though this may now give us an idea of where he might be planning to target. We believe that he is going to attack London. It is the closest place in regards to the location of the island. Sending out any shipments now would be too risky."

"Why did Burnside not send any shipments out over Christmas?"

"Our information indicates that the chemical quantities are not sufficient enough yet. Time is running out Bond. We need you too head out as soon as possible and put a stop to him. There is no telling what he might be capable of. A man with that many chemicals at hand is sure to cause some major destruction no matter what. Everything is waiting for you Bond. Do you accept this mission?"

"On queen and country sir."

"Good to hear. Head up to your room, I shall have everything you need brought straight up too you. It's going to be a dangerous mission 10K. I hope you can go through with this. Remember, if you fail. The world is in peril." M looked sternly over towards Bond. In Bond's mind he got the message, he stood up out of the seat and left the room. The next stage of his mission was about to take place. Bond was now making his second trip of the day up too his room. The Ministry was at "full power" and Bond was the one on show. The door to his room creaked open as always. It was showing its age against that of the house. Just as M has said, everything Bond would need was placed ready for him on his bed. He walked over and picked up the suit that he had sent to be cleaned earlier. He fussed over the amount of items he had been given. How were they planning for him to take all of these things with him without his presence being recognized or his work being jeopardized? He filtered through what he thought he would possibly need. The choice was extensive and it took Bond a number of minutes to work out where he would carry things on his body. His final decision was perfect. The suit would be placed over the top of a second layer of casual clothes. His gun would once again be placed under his left armpit. Extra clips of bullets could easily be carried along his belt line. Bond had picked up a pair of gloves. According to the equipment file left lying sporadically across the table, the gloves would protect his hands, when dealing with the chemicals. This would need to be placed in the inside pocket of his jacket. The goggles would be too much of a stand out. So he decided to leave them behind. Bond left the rest of the items and preceded into the bathroom, there he changed himself into the new suit. Its blue colour was quite dark. Dark enough that from a distance it may have been mistook for black. He adjusted the top button, releasing it to allow himself to breath. The typical yellow, top secret folder waited patiently for Bond to peer over it. He walked over and eventually ended up propping himself up on the headboard of the bed and began to read.

_**Immediate eyes only Status!**_

_Information:_

_Information regarding the company NYX chemicals and the chemical weapon known only as XCELL, Both company and weapon are believed to be in use by terrorists (see index 4.5). Immediate action is to be followed up. The island in question lies just off the Devon coast. Ministry to brief chosen agent in mission._

_Action:_

_Deployment of Agent 10K_

_The immediate Infiltration and elimination of Mr. Donato Burnside. _

_Destruction of NYX chemicals._

_Evacuation of Agent 10K_

_Prosecution of all known associates._

_~ M ~_

Bond closed over the folder. He moved to open the window. The sun was now midway through the sky. He was trying to think about his life, again the old life he had left behind. It still had to wait for him to once again return. He left the window ajar and turned towards the door. The details of the mission were something Bond needed to memorize. He returned to peering through the folder whilst sat on the lone chair in the room. Half an hour later and Bond was walking down the stairs towards the front doors of the manor. No one seemed to stop and say anything to him. M had merely passed on a memo to Bond wishing him the best of luck. The busyness was an all continuing thing here. Bond stepped out through the door. Outside the sun caught Bond squarely in the eyes. He noticed a silver car, parked waiting outside. The man driving it stepped out and greeted Bond by the hand. "Mr. Bond I presume."

"Yes, that is me."

"My name is Edward and I will be your chauffer for today." Bond immediately noticed the thick American accent.

"Excellent, we must make a move. We have a plane to catch."

"Certainly sir." Edward opened the rear door, holding it open for Bond. He stepped in, where Edward shut the door. Bond looked around the car. It was very modern, with all the added accessories. Edward started up the engine and pulled away from the house. Bond looked over his shoulder, he could see the different figures walking about the place. The gardeners were all in action tidying up the flowers. "Going anywhere special sir" said Edward after a short while.

"No, not really. Just staying in the country."

"Well, it must be special if they have hired you a chauffer. I have not been to that house in a few months. I must say, there seems to be a need for chauffeurs for people heading abroad at this time."

"Well I am new to the place. Need to conduct some business on the other side of the country."

"You know sir, you remind me of this fellow I had sitting in this car a few years back. I used to work in America you see, and one night. I was asked to pick this man up from one of the casinos. Talking just like we are now. He suddenly asked me to put my foot down. Supposed to been followed by someone. I was asked to hide down a dirt path. Car drove past and this mister jumped out of the car and disappeared, still got paid never mind. Now let me try to remember his name."

"I'm sure it doesn't matter."

"No, maybe you know him. Said he was in the same business you guys are. Now what was his name?" He began to think hard. Bond was more concerned with arriving at the airport on time. Suddenly, Edward jerked upwards like he had been stuck with lightening. "I know it now. It was a Mr. Wallace. At least I believe that was his name." Bond did not acknowledge him for his remembering of a name. The rest of the drive to the airport was quickly done in much silence. Edward dropped him off at the terminal. As usual, the airport was busy. Very busy. Everyone seemed to be on their way to or from somewhere. Bond had to push his way over towards the private check in desks for inland flights. These are situated further down, away from the more popular destination desks. The lady behind the check in desk looked through Bond's passport. "Good to have you on board. Mr. Philips." Bond was surprised at the woman calling him a different name. There was a moment he did not knowledge her. He felt stupid leaving such a long pause. She seemed not to mind. "How may I ask are you going to be paying for this? The cost comes to just under five hundred pounds."

Bond was shocked. Exactly, how was he going to pay for this? Bond reached for his wallet. He thought he might be able to claim it back form the Ministry on his return. Bond opened up the leather wallet to find a new card wedged at the front of the other cards. It was black and looked very exclusive, as if too be given to those part of a club. Bond removed the card from his wallet and examined it in the overhead lights; it bore no real design markings though it looked official. Bond puzzled for a moment, before enquiring.

"Have you ever seen this card?" He handed the card over the desk. She looked for a moment, before entering the details upon the computer.

"It seems to have worked sir. I must say I have never seen a card like this before. Ok, that has brought the price down to a hundred pounds." Bond paid the full sum I cash.

"I'm a member of an oiling company, heavy business this time of year." The lady gave him a smile, before handing over his boarding card and passport. Bond had not been carrying any luggage with him. It was deemed unnecessary for any agent to take anything personal along with them. Bond stopped for a moment, how was he going to get through customs with a gun and ammunition strapped to his body. He needed to make a detour. Bond watched as the flurry of travellers continued to have their identification checked. It would be close to impossible for him to make it through the detectors without being noticed. If he was found, he would surely miss his flight and above all be arrested. He watched as members of the airports security, moved through a staff only door. It had to be opened with a keypad. Bond watched and waited whilst a number of guards walked through the door. Once he was aware of what the code was, he made his own way over. He tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. It was going to be difficult. He held himself close to the door as he slipped through. The corridor on the other side was empty, a lucky break for Bond. He walked along as if in a hurry to be somewhere. With every corner there was a hint of fear in Bond's mind that he would be caught. The excitement flowed through Bond quite naturally. It was not long before he came to another security door. Luckily this door happened to have a release button on this side. He pressed upon the green rounded button and exited into the departures lounge. Now Bond was due to take his flight at two in the afternoon. His watch was reading half one. The wait would drag. To pass the time, he wondered around one of the duty free shops, planned the quickest route to his departure gate and finally sat down with the rest of the tourists with a newspaper. He carried on reading the same articles that he had been looking through over breakfast. With fifteen minutes to go Bond had made a start on the crossword. _The Times_ crossword for this particular day was quite easy for Bond. A scholar of such high standards would be expected to complete these crosswords in no time at all. And indeed he did. The most interesting thing was the answer to ten across. "The total and permanent cessation of all the vital functions of an organism." Death happened to be the answer. Bond decided not too take it as a possible bad sign. With a few minutes left to go he started looking down at the completed piece of work, Bond went over the answers. Followed again by the questions, the answer to seven down was "thought". Whereas the question was a description. "How can you describe something which is invisible?" he thought. His Oxford education was really coming into use. His watch read ten to two. Something happened. In fact someone seemed to be watching him. A man, unknown to Bond was staring right at him. He thought that this was strange. Why would he be looking at him? Bond looked back down into his paper. But when he looked back up again the man was gone. Something was definitely up. He folded the paper over and walked the short distance to his boarding gate. There was a moment when he turned to check that he was still safe Although he was the only passenger. He was ushered through the doors and down a set of stairs, which led onto the landing grid. This being a private flight the pilot was waiting outside the plane to welcome him. "Welcome sir, I shall be your pilot today. Everything seems to be in order. No delays foreseen. Ready to set off when you are."

"Well that is promising."

"This way." The pilot extended his arm outwards. It was pointing towards the door of the plane. It folded down to reveal the steps on the inside. Bond walked forwards and boarded the plane. He was personally shown to his leather seat. A glass of champagne was immediately brought to him. The flight was going to be at least an hour; so Bond sat back into the chair and began to relax. An airhostess on her way to the back of the plane suddenly fell forwards, dropping a pile of paperwork onto Bond.

"Sorry" she said picking up the files. She took them all except one. "Operation D.O.V.E." Bond slid the file down the side of the chair. He looked around to make sure no one had seen him and then closed his eyes. The plane moved out onto the runway. They managed to soon be up in the sky, flying over the English countryside. The screen in front of Bond was showing one of the new movies currently been shown in the cinemas. He decided he did not want to be watching this so he began to make a plan. Bond had looked over the photos in the folder he'd been given. The new folder contained an update of the situation. He was going to be dropped off at a private airfield on the coast and then take a boat out part way towards the island. Bond would have to swim the rest of the way. After at least half an hour of flight Bond stood up from his chair and walked down the plane towards the toilets. He was forced to walk past some of the air stewards. The private jet definitely belonged to someone else most possibly one of M friends. Bond pushed the door open and moved in. With all the high tech gadgets and money spent on a high class beautiful plane, the toilet was still the same cramped space. He reached for the gun and ammunition, placing it into the sink. He made some adjustments to each just to make sure they would act the most effectively when being used. Both items were once again soon well hidden. He exited the toilets and walked back up to his seat. The airhostess soon arrived with a menu for him to choose a meal from. Bond picked out the marinated chicken, a firm favourite of Bond. The food was quick to also arrive. "Whereabouts are we flying over miss?"  
"We are just leaving the British Isles. It shouldn't be long before we turn round and arrive at the airstrip."

"Excellent." He went back to eating his meal.

Bond was quietly having a quick power nap. Everything seemed to be going well. The sound of the engines had eased Bond into a state of sleep. There was a minimal amount of turbulence affecting the plane. All was tranquil, all was calm. The captains calming voice came over the speaker. "Preparing to land the plane. Departure in about 20 minutes. Just have to swing the plane out over the sea, and then carry on straight through onto the runway." Suddenly the turbulence was heavy. Bond's body shook upwards into the air. He was thrown off his seat crashing into the carpeted floor. Bond looked round, He saw that some of the airhostess had also been thrown around, each hitting various parts along the floor. The captains voice returned, this time, the calmness had been lost. "People, we are going down, we're crashing. We've been hit on the right side. The engine has gone. I'm trying to hold it steady, but it wants to go into a spin, eight thousand feet to go. Seven, Six, Five." Bond braced himself as best he could. As the plane was now at an angle it was difficult for Bond to pull himself up towards the doors. The seats there would hopefully hold him. "I can see the sea." These were the final words of the captain, before the plane finally hit the waters. Bond beforehand took in a large breath. The force of the impact expelled some of the air. As soon as the rush of water had died down ever so slightly, he started too moved away. Bond had no time to save anyone else. He reached for the doors handle. With all the strength he could give, he opened the planes hatch. He crawled out. It was a good hundred feet back up to the surface. He had no idea whereabouts off the coast he was. For all he knew it could be several miles. A crash like that would not have gone unnoticed. He hauled his body up to the surface. The bright sky was filled with pieces of burning engine. He looked around him. He could make out some of the Devonshire coast. It was at least a mile of swimming away. His body had been badly battered by the crash and so trying to swim was somewhat painful. He managed to soon get himself into a swimming stroke that would allow him to make good distance and suffer him minimal pain. Bond did not want to hang around for the rescue boats. In fact there seemed to be no rescue boats whatsoever coming from the coast. This was strange. Surely a crash like this would require immediate attention. Bond was making good progress. After half an hour he had managed to swim at least three quarters of the way. The coast looked white with the chalk from the cliffs. A large lighthouse was situated at the top. There seemed to be no sign of any other buildings or life for that matter. Bond was not that surprised. It was well known that the coasts around Devon hold plenty of beaches, many of which have little contact with the human world. It is also common for there to only be a single road which traverses across the coast. Bond would just have to hope that someone was driving along and could give him some help. After a short while later Bond had managed to climb onto the beach. The tide had helped to drag his body into the land. The sun was beating down upon his body. He was so tired from the swimming. His body was in more pain than when he had started. For several moments, he lay there on the beach, waiting for the pain to disappear, waiting for someone to have seen him and decided to come and help. But Bond sensed something was wrong. This did not feel like normality. This was obviously not the coast of Devon. He looked around to see if he could find anything remotely distinguishable. Nothing was evident. "I must be on Kraken Island." The maps Bond had been forced to look through that morning, were lacking in much detail. There was very little about what the surrounding area to Burnsides hideout was really like. Bond had also presumed that the maps were fairly old and much had changed around the island over the years. The first thing Bond decided to do was to make sure that his gun was in full working order. Unfortunately, the additional ammunition had fallen from his belt line. This was probably a good thing to happen as the weight would have dragged him down and right now he would be at the bottom of the sea. He could see that no one else from the plane had managed to make it out. The thought of their deaths lingered on Bond's mind momentarily. He would need to learn that death was all part of the job. The guards from the other day had committed a crime. Their deaths were the least of his worries. But the deaths of those who are innocent were a crime of the highest standard. His gun seemed to be working perfectly. The salt water seemed to have done very little to damage the weapon. He fired a few shots without the bullets magazine inserted. He decided to have a look around on the beach. He managed to find plenty of washed up items, but was unable to use any of them. The cliffs stood towering over the beach. The dunes at the bottom were covered in plenty of long grass. He walked along the beach for what seemed like another mile. The lighthouse at the top seemed to be desolate from this distance. Bond climbed over the dunes to see if he could find someway to get to the tops of the cliffs. He noticed a set of what looked like stairs, further down the beach. He walked between the grasses towards the stairs. They were made of wood. Their age was showing. Some of the wood was rotten and Bond had to make sure that the steps he was going to be taking were not going to result in him falling through to a large fall. Each of the steps he took creaked. The steps numbered in their hundreds and it was going to take quite a while for him to make it up too the top. He stayed close to the cliffs wall as he climbed up. This way it would be difficult for anyone to attack him. It was so his body as a target was as small as possible. Bond held his gun out and paced up the stairs, step by step.

The back of his jacket was covered in the white of the chalk. He had no time to make himself look good. The top of the cliff was just ahead. The overhanging plants and grass seemed to dominate the entire cliff edge. The stairs turned near the top into a man made groove in the cliff. Bond eased himself upwards to peer over the top. The lighthouse was at least a quarter of a mile back the way he had come. This was the most distinguishable feature, and would be Bond's first port of call. He walked through the tall grass still with his gun ready to be fired. Everything looked natural on this island. There seemed to be no evidence of any dirty dealings being carried out. As he got closer towards the lighthouse, Bond used the thick long grass to hide himself. He started to walk in a crouch, looking around him and ideally at the top floors of the lighthouse. The door at the front was the only means of entering. It would be an all out gun battle between him and whoever just so happened to be on the inside. Bond examined the door. If he was going to be bursting in so unexpected, he wanted to make sure the odds were on his side. The door was of an old wood. A single, small arch shaped window sat upon the top. Bond worked out the best way to make an entrance. With his gun still ready for action, he rammed the door with his shoulder, bursting into the lighthouse. The inside was very dark with streams of cobwebs covering the place. He wiped the dirt and pieces of wood off of his clothing. He looked round for some sign of a light switch. Nothing apparent could be found. He was just going to have to take it slowly. Give the enemy the element of surprise. Through the darkness Bond could see a large table with chairs. The stairs leading upwards were just at the back of the room. Bond tried to look around but could see very little. Suddenly a light from above turned on. It could not have been the light powering the lighthouse; it was only just beginning to turn dark outside. Bond looked around the best he could for somewhere to hide. He could hear the sudden footsteps making their way downstairs. He frantically searched. In the darkness it was very hard to see where anything was. He would probably be seen anywhere. Bond had to move quickly, the use of an old cupboard underneath the stairs was going to be his only hope. The person reached the bottom of the stairs. Paused for a moment and then carried on their way. Bond eased open the cupboard door to try and get better look at whoever they were. Bond could only see the back of them. He could make out the helmet, the large army issue boots. He could see the variety of weapons being held in his holster. The jackets they wore looked very much like those of the army, though it was minus the camouflage design. Bond could make out the shadowy outline of a large gun. This soldier stood guard outside the doorway. He reached into his belt and produced a cigarette. He was taking a break. Bond decided not to attack him but to make his way upstairs. He edged his way out from under the stairs and silently made his way up, the ever looking down at the guard to see if he had been noticed. Bond had continued to hold his gun out ready. The guard did not notice him moving about. The stairs curled round the building after the ground floor. Bond looked upwards to see the top floor. Indeed the light had been coming from there. He moved even slower as too make sure his presence stayed unnoticed.

The guard from downstairs still had not returned to his position. Bond raised his head upwards through the top of the stairs. There appeared to be another man, another soldier sitting at a desk. His helmet had been removed and he was staring out of the lighthouses window across the sea. Bond edged his way up behind him. He was close enough to smell the remnants of coffee on his breath. With one quick, sharp smack to the side of the head. The guard fell onto the floor, writhing in pain. The guard started to shout. He was calling to his fellow soldier. He must have heard, because the sound of boots stomping on stair occurred almost immediately. Bond grabbed hold of the soldier on the floor and smashed his head in with his helmet. The soldier tried grabbing for his gun, but it was too late. He was dead. The final blow had done it for Bond. Bond waited for the other soldier to make it up too the top. The soldier fired a series of shots upwards in the hope of hitting Bond. He ran into the room. Bond had the chance to get himself ready. He was now behind the soldier. Bond fired off a shot into his back. The guard fell onto his knees. A moment later he slumped forwards and onto the floor, a mere half meter away from his friend. Bond stood back up, stepped over the two trails of blood falling down towards the stairs and walked over to the console. He put his gun on the top near the window. The sun was setting on another day. Bond turned the lighthouse light on and stared out too sea. The light intermittently flicked over Bond on each turn it made. He would continue searching the island in the morning. For now, it was time to prepare himself for the big fight.

XIV

First Findings

The morning of glory in the lighthouse was enough to captivate anyone through its eternal beauty. Bond had been unable sleep. Instead, he had spent the time training himself through the night to the best of his ability. It was difficult with such a small area and very little too work with. He had finished his work out by two in the morning. The rest of the night was spent checking the supplies he could get his hand on. The guards kept only a small amount of items on themselves. He had searched their pockets and also helped himself to all the ammunition he could get from their guns to replace the clips he had lost in the sea. The guard's guns carried similar bullets to the ones in Bond's gun. The dawn had broken over the horizon. Bond could see the coastline of Devon, far across the sea. Bond moved the guard's bodies away from their posts to make sure that no one would see them. He had removed the radios from their beltlines and kept them both switched on. He placed the radios on top of the control consoles. They needed to be kept on in order for Bond to hear where Burnside might be sending his forces. No other information had been given during the night by Burnside about the chemical XCELL. Bond was struck with luck this morning. The radios crackled into life, spilling out the piece of information Bond had been waiting for. A test of the initial attack was going to be taking place within the next twelve hours. Bond hoped to witness the test in order for him too pass on any relevant information to M. Things had been difficult. With the sun coming up Bond was able to look down upon the beach once again. He could now see the haggard figures lying on the beach. It was the bodies of the airplanes crew. The airhostesses looked the worse. Their bodies looked somewhat disfigured by the crash. The possible conclusion that they had been food for the fishes was not too far off Bond mind. He tried not to look down towards the beach too often. It was only on the off chance that another solution as to how their plane crashed in the first place. It was such a coincidence that they would land so close to where Bond was meaning to be heading later on. He wondered whether he would indeed be able to contact M and the rest of the Ministry soon. He seemed to have a long list of things he needed to get completed and right now he was more focused on completing the job in hand. The sun was high up in the sky, enough to give the sea closest to the beaches a turquoise gleam. All wreckage from the plane had now either sunk to the bottom of the sea or had also been washed up upon the beach. Bond, with the sun shining in his eyes tried to look down upon the beach for the last time. He could see some of Burnsides men salvaging items. They were more than likely looking for Bond rather than anything else. The watching continued. These guards looked very much like they were dissatisfied. It would not be long before they would discover no James Bond and send in their report. But there was a way, a way to postpone the communication from getting through. Bond picked up the radios from the console and set one of the next too the static of the lighthouse radar. On every turn the radar made there would be a short blip sound. Bond would have to find a way to hold the button down. If the guards tried to communicate all they would hear would be the beep. Unfortunately the radios were programmed with different channels. What if they switched to a new one? Bond thought quickly. Studied the radios and came up with a plan. The radios contained an automatic search function. All he would need to do was to keep the second radio on a search. Then when it found the communication coming through, Bond could simply listen to what was being said, and then add his own slice of information on at the end. Hopefully causing the guards to become confused and order another search. Overall this would give Bond enough time to make his escape.

The early morning had been mainly spent looking around the lighthouse and through all the windows. From the top of here, he was able to see the majority of one side of the island. He could make out a few paths that zigzagged their way across the island. He could see the remains of a castle. This looked like an interesting place to go visit first. Bond walked over to the table back inside the top of the lighthouse. The items he had gathered lay upon its surface. Bond picked up the holster he had filled it up with other found items. He strapped it around his waist and took out the gun. He slid the radio into one of the available slots on the belt and walked downstairs. The door had been barricaded shut by Bond the previous night. Bond slowly edged the door open, quickly noticing that the grass looked slightly yellowy in colour now. The door was finally open. Bond held his gun outwards as if too attack. He walked slowly out of the door keeping low as he walked. He was making sure he was well covered in case of an emergency. He planned to stay off the paths completely. The grass moving around his face made it slightly difficult for him to see where he was going. The castle remains were at least a mile away from the lighthouse. He would have to carry out most of the travelling on his belly. This was going to be a major task for him to carry out. It would take most of the morning for him to arrive and in that time anything could be happening. The radio upon his belt suddenly burst into life. He had only made it a short way over to the castle. The voice sounded cackled. "What's going on? I am unable to call anyone on the other channel. From now on only use this one. It seems to be working fine." There was a long burst of guard's shouting "Yes sir." into their radios. Bond did the same just so he could blend in properly. He noticed that most of the guards spoke with a harsh Devonshire accent. They must have all derived from the local area upon the mainland. That, or this island had been around or quite some time and they had picked up the dialect over time. Bond did not know which. But he saw no need to find out. It was still taking too long to make any decent progress through the grass. With a quick decision he decided he would run the rest of the way, but still maintain less presence by staying in a crouch. This was the way to go about it. He was making great progress. The remains of the castle were guarded heavily. This seemed very strange to Bond. Why would something with very little significance have this many people looking over it? Bond needed to go in further. He stayed within the tall grass watching the guard's movements. Every time, the guards completed one of their rounds, there was an ideal time frame in which Bond could make some more distance. The idea was perfect. The final twenty feet however would be a different story. This distance was open land. Bond would need to be fast. He would also need to find somewhere to hide. The overhang of rocks ahead would hopefully provide him that cover. There seemed to be very little that he could do. It was a watch and wait situation. The overhang was presumably there so that the enemy could not climb up onto the next section of field to make it too the castle. But these ruins were old. There would have been changes to the features of the land and hopefully allow Bond to have the advantage. He watched and waited to see how the guards reacted. What was needed now was a distraction. Something small, with the ability to make the guards look the other way. With only him in the field, it was somewhat difficult; he would stick out like a sore thumb walking around this area. All he could find around him were a few rocks. But throwing them would do very little. It was a possibility that the guards would just cast it off as the ruins falling apart. No, he needed something…different. Bond thought of a plan almost immediately. He was again watching for the guards movements. His moment had arrived. The guards momentarily met and begun exchanging a few words. He kept himself low to the ground running as fast as he could. The overhang was indeed ideal for hiding him. "Now to distract the guards." He shimmed his body along the wall until he came upon some old trees. They were part of the wall and Bond thought these would come in handy. He pushed with all his strength, managing to quickly but silently uproot one of the trees. He grabbed hold, as gently as he could he lowered the tree down onto the ground. There was no need to drag the tree as it was too heavy and would easily give his hiding place away. So, with a mighty push, he rolled the tree away with his foot. It rolled across the open space, gaining as much pace as possible, until it came to the long grass. It had worked perfectly. The guards had noticed the grass moving downwards rapidly. Bond knew the coast would soon be clear, when all of a sudden, the voices upon the radio burst once again into life. The sound of running guards pounded the open ground. Bond turned and climbed onto the upper part of the ground, struggling slightly unable to get both his feet up. From the top he could see the guards trying to chase after the log. Not all of the guards had gone but it was ok. With their numbers at a minimum, Bond was able to sneak his way between one of the walls. Here he waited until the guards had all reconvened upon the one side. They had been waiting for the others to arrive back from their investigations. "Don't worry; it was a large piece of wood. This place is quite obviously falling apart."

"Then why are we guarding it?"

"Because…." The guard's voice seemed to stop as he tried to talk. He stared over to the guard who had asked the question. "Are you new here or something?"

"No"

"Then shut up and get back to work. Go on, the lot of you. All get back to patrolling this place. You don't get to decide what needs to be guarded and what doesn't." Bond puzzled about the strange pause, and then carried on by looking through the gaps between the ruined walls. The guards all went back to carrying out their duties. Bond slipped in and out of the stonework trying to find anything, even the ability to look out across the rest of the island.

Kraken was not exactly a big island. It had originally been a small spit of land which just so happened to stick neatly out of the sea just off the English coast. Many wealthy customers wished to purchase such land for luxury living potential. But it was always deemed not for sale. There was too high a chance of the sea levels rising high enough to engulf any of the buildings that would most likely occupy the island. But the British Government was too interested in hearing people's willingness to keep coming back with more money in order for them to own this small piece of land. Soon enough the government was persuaded to spend some of the tax payer's money, making the land into a fully grown habitable island. The castle had been one of the first few buildings to be built upon its new rich land. Unfortunately, the combination of weather damage and also the poor quality maintenance carried out in making the land were all contributors to its eventual abandonment by the rich and famous. That was until Mr. Burnside came along. He had told the government that for a small amount of money. He would help cover up the windfall in cash upon society, by taking the whole island off their hands for a very cheap price. He did just so. Eventually convincing the prime minister himself that the actions he wished to carry out on the island would always be in the best interest of the British people. So for ten years now he and his workforce went about their business. But it was all a front. Nothing came together properly the government had not heard from Burnside for almost the entire decade since. He was constantly building here but nothing was ever revealed too them. Bond was now here to investigate.

The ruins seemed to take up quite a large area upon the island. Enough to say hide things in. This was the only clue he had at the time and so had to act upon it diligently. He soon noticed what looked like a drainage hatch from a submarine inserted into the ground. This was strange. What was something like this doing here? Bond needed to find out. He did not wish to alert the guards but turning the handle upon the hatch was more difficult than he thought. It had not been oiled in what felt like years. It made the most monumental screeching sound. With each full turn he looked up; gun raised, staring around to see if anyone had been alerted. The place seemed to have become all of a sudden dead. The radio on his belt had not flashed or sounded ever since that last call. Bond pressed on and once open pulled the hatch over. He climbed in and begun to descend, remembering as always to return the door to how it had been originally. He was moving downwards into darkness. For a second he looked down to see if he could see the bottom. It was useless; there was nothing but the darkness. He was unable to see his hand in front of his face. He was taking much time in making his way down. He was making sure that he was able to place his foot upon the next rung of the ladder before he moved the rest of his body. He guessed that he had gone down at least forty metres by now. There seemed to be very little end to the climbing. Bond moved his foot once more to feel the bottom. This time it did not seem the same. There was no rung, but a platform of sorts. Bond held onto the ladder tight and moved his foot about to make sure that it was safe to stand upon. When he was completely sure the platform would hold him he let go of the ladder. He was still standing within the darkness unable to make out anything of significance. Bond put the gun away for now and held his hands out to see if he could feel anything. He almost immediately grabbed onto something cold. The metal awoke Bond from almost falling asleep. It was rounded and seemed to have no end. Bond's mind determined that it was a handrail of sorts. He could not tell whether he was standing at the very bottom of the shaft or whether this could simply be a bridge. His hands were at reach in front of him. He started to carefully walk forwards ever suspicious as to whether there was an end to the rail. Bond was now walking along, one had upon the rail whereas the other was reaching out to grab at whatever came at him. As he shuffled along he wondered what was going on here. What could Burnside be up too and how was he planning on attacking from the island. Bond was hopefully going to soon find it all out. The end of the rail eventually came. Bond's other hand had touched something as well. He moved his hand about to find something that could help him. Whatever he was touching it too was made of metal. Its surface was very rough. No work had seemed to be carried out upon its initial installation. Bond of course could not pin down exactly when this bunker had been installed. But going by the recent events he was sure that it was put here around the time the rest of the island was being built on. Bond tried once again to look around to see if he could find out anything he could use to help him out. His eyes were now used to the darkness but it was still useless for him to find anything. Above Bond's head and about ten feet to Bond's right there appeared to be a shaft of small light coming through the metal. The light was only rounded and was protruding outwards back towards the ladder. Bond moved round keeping close to the wall in case he was standing on an open walkway. He placed his finger over the light, and then slowly moved his finger down the wall. It felt like there was a door exactly where he was standing. He once more felt around the area, looking for the doors handle. He eventually found what he was looking for. It was a small wheel like handle. The handle looked like it was the handle to change the pressure on a gas tank. But he turned it nevertheless; the lock upon the door soon gave a satisfying click, signalling that it was open. Bond could now make this next part quiet as the door was very heavy and so gave a long groan when being opened.

After stepping through the hatch, Bond left the door open in case it needed to be used as an escape. The other side of the hatch was shocking beyond belief. Bond witnessed a pulley lift being used. On top of this lift was an anti aircraft gun. This was it; this was the weapon responsible for downing his plane. A guard was stationed at all times to be sat upon the gun ready to bring it into life at any moment. The gun must have been raised up when Bond plane was coming into land and fired at one of the engines. As soon as the plane had hit the water. The gun was lowered back down into the ground. Bond could see it all; there was plenty of light in this area. Guards were walking around carrying out arbitrary jobs. Bond could neither see Burnside or any of the other members of the meeting. He must proceed onwards. This job was becoming more difficult by the moment. The whole of the inside was below the island. This part was below the ruins. Bond looked upwards and indeed could see the roots from the trees. But a large round space had been converted into an opening. There were different levels of walkways wrapping themselves around the inside. The initial design of this area looked as if it was designed upon a missile launch. The room was rounded from the bottom up a hundred metres all the way up too the top. The room was very tall and would have sufficiently harboured a large rocket or a series of missiles. But Bond had seen no evidence yet that proved that there was any use for missiles or that they were currently building anything of the sorts. The guards were constantly walking within a few feet of Bond and on every occasion he had to hide. It was getting extremely difficult now. He needed to find some sort of disguise or find an alternative route. Bond noticed a part of the gun room that was fairly secluded. A lone guard was patrolling this floor and it was the most ideal to carry out a sneak attack. The stairs were being guarded. Any member of the workforce, who had now organized themselves after quickly entering the room, seemed to show the guard patrolling the stairs some sort of identification. It would be near impossible to get hold of some of this identification and even more difficult to fool the guard with someone else's face. There was going to be a need for an alternative route. The upper walkways had many metallic strands coming away and towards the lower floors. They had been designed to hold up the various floors. "They seem sturdy enough." Bond would be able to climb up these hopefully without detection. The only hindrance was the sound the climbing would incur. The strands did not completely head down vertically, so Bond would need to swing his body outwards over the edge of the rails. When he swung back inwards he was sure to collide with the metal in such a way to cause a bang to occur. It looked like the only way up and was a chance he was going to have to take. Firstly he would have to find somewhere where he could climb up. The guards further down the walkway were now walking towards Bond. There was very little he could do. There was nowhere for him to hide. This would be it, he would have to climb. Bond jumped up and grabbed at the metal support. He managed to get himself a grip upon its somewhat smooth surface. With an extremely quick pull Bond lifted himself up. He hung there waiting for the guards to walk past. As soon as he could see that they were a considerable distance away he immediately swung his body out. As predicted his body also swung backwards so that his feet hit the wall. He hung from the upper walkway with all the strength he could muster into his hands, Bond lifted himself upwards. He needed to be quick at all moments. Thankfully there were no guards patrolling this floor. It was only the single guard that seemed to be present up here. Bond needed to take a moment to regain himself and to allow his hands to heal up a bit. As soon as he was ready he moved into one of the shadowed areas across from where he had gotten up. The guard was constantly walking, quite fairly following the same path on each way round. Bond was waiting with his gun ready.

There had been many days since coming back to the Ministry after Christmas, when Bond spent his time training himself in all arts of attacking. He had on a few days carried out some weapons training, one of which was on how to knock someone out using only the butt of a gun. This was would be the tactic he was now going to use against the guard. On the next turn he would simply attack and knock the guard out. Bond waited in the shadows, waiting for that one perfect moment. The guard passed in front of Bond. He was ideally stopped in front of Bond in exactly the correct space. Bond moved himself out of the shadows and up behind the guard. The gun had been put back into the holster. Bond knew of a quicker way of knocking the guard out. He lifted his hands up to grab at the guard's throat. "Delta Echo One, Delta Echo One comes in." That was it. The guard had also been wearing a radio upon his belt. Bond's arms shot downwards back towards his gun. Both of the radios had voiced the communication. At the same time as Bond had reached for his gun, the guard turned round in hearing of the alert. The guard already had his gun outwards and so was ready to fire. Bond was being quick witted. Instead of going for his gun, he changed his mind instantly and jabbed upwards at the gun in the guard's hand. The guard was strong he was putting up a major big fight against Bond. The gun was being tossed around quite a lot. It was surprising to Bond how none of the other guards in the room had come up too see what the commotion was all about. The two bodies writhed about, still standing. Bond thrust the end of the gun upwards, as if to throw it out of the guards grip. His plan was working. The guard still held onto the gun, but looked upwards. Bond was able to tackle the guard over towards the railings, where he ended up laying backwards. The gun was wrapped around the guard's throat. He was struggling to gain his grip. Bond could feel the guard's weight on his arms. Any further of a push and the guard would be pushed over the side of the bars. The long plunge down to the bottom was not what Bond was planning. His presence would be noticed by everyone and it would be near to impossible for Bond to escape off of the island. Bond was now holding onto the guard with one hand upon his chest and the other around his mouth. There to stop him screaming for help. Bond looked down at the guard. The guard seemed to be scared for his life. This was Bond's job now. It was what he was trained to do. "I shall not be killing you today." Bond lifted up the guard and brought him up onto his feet. The guard had no time to compose himself, took a grab of the gun and with one swift smack to the side of the head, the guard's body seemed to go limp. It collapsed to the ground falling into Bond's arms. He gently lay the body down and began removing the clothes. He would need this uniform in order for him to get himself around the buildings. He disposed of the guard's body, by making sure that it was well hidden within the shadows. Bond used the guards shoe laces and some cloth in one of the pockets. Bond thought it necessary to bound and gag the guard to prevent him raising the alarm once he woke up.

The clothes seemed to fit Bond with the trousers only being slightly too big. The boots the guard was wearing still had the warmth left over from his feet and legs. Bond felt uncomfortable wearing such things. The guard was now lying in only his underwear, arms tied round his back and one of the guards bandanas used to cover over his mouth. Bond had checked the utility belt the guard carried. There was very little Bond picked up as an extra. He was starting to run high on ammunition, and the smaller objects seemed to be of no use at all. Bond took a long gulp from the guard's hip flask and then continued on. The larger machine gun the guard had been carried was heavy. Bond had been tested and trained in nearly all forms of weaponry whilst at the Ministry. This gun was missing from Bond's memory. He had never seen one of these guns before. The walkway on this floor had one of the best views of the whole room. Bond could truly see now the whole area of the workforce. They were everywhere. He decided to head upwards. The top floor was only a short walk away. The guards did not patrol these floors. Burnside had a good understanding of where to focus the workforce. The metal steps clanked after each step Bond took. After reaching the top Bond came to what looked like a long tunnel. It must have been based just below the surface of the island. The walls were very smooth, as if they had all been produced like this when they were being installed. As Bond walked down the tunnel, he saw many doors coming off on either side. Some doors had been left open and Bond could see other tunnels weaving their way off in all directions. This was big. The whole island seemed to have a large tunnel network built into it, with different rooms at the end of each passage. Bond wondered if the guards stayed underground, whether there were any barracks that they would sleep in. This whole business was becoming very sinister. Bond moved about, occasionally having to walk past some solitary guards. No one seemed to be talking to him as he passed. This was a good sign. The disguise was definitely working. One of the guards he passed was seen to be smoking. The cap this guard wore bore the different cigarette burn marks from over the years. There was some major damage to the hat. It had different holes throughout. There was a turn in the tunnels path up ahead. Bond tried to stay calm and focused, but he found himself lifting the gun up in preparations of someone beginning to attack him. He did not want to give his presence away. Bond walked edgily around the corner. It was empty. Bond seriously needed to re-think his whole persona when coming up to such problems. The most distinctive thing Bond noticed about these tunnels was the lack of lighting. The light was unable to penetrate these tunnels from the surface. There seemed to be a group of dimly lit lamps strung up against the walls at various intervals. The lights were of no adequate level. They did not give Bond or the guards enough light to help avoid any lying objects. The rooms however were powered by high powered lights. The room Bond had suddenly walked into was the same shape as the one he had previously been in. The floors of metal work worked their way down to the bottom. There seemed to be a lack of guards in this room. Bond freely made his way down towards the bottom floor. There were a number of levers on one of the control panels around this room. Bond did not touch any of the machinery. Nothing had been marked. He may inadvertently start something off. The large screen dominating the room was switched off. The few people who were in the room, all moved about, staring at the different dials. They were noting down what they saw. Bond turned and saw another door leading out of the room. He decided he would head down this path next. Suddenly the lights in the room dimmed down, a large bright red light came on from above the large screen. The doors on all floors opened up. The sound of metal hitting the doors was immense. It was one large boom. The doors seemed to work automatically allowing them to all hit the walls at the same time. The screen turned on showing Burnside. His head was huge, compared to the size of the screen. "Assemble"

The room was soon filling up with guards. They were all taking their places and filling up all of the available spaces. "Hear this. Good work on taking down that plane yesterday. We have recovered all of the bodies. Though there seems to be no sign of Mr. Bond." At this point the screen cut in two. One side still had Burnside shouting, whereas the other showed a large picture of Bond taken at the meeting. We have gotten little intelligence that he died during the crash. We have found two bodies in the lighthouse near the crash site. So we presume he is now upon this island. He is in our territory. I want you to be on full alert. Keep your eyes out for any suspicious activities. James Bond is here as a purpose o put a stop to what we are doing. He is going to fail miserably. I want that son of a bitch. I want you to bring him to me alive. On a final note, all tests regarding XCELL have proved to be successful. We shall be moving onto the next stage of the plan soon. NOW!" He seemed to shout the words. "GET BACK TO YOUR POSITIONS." The screen returned to being black. The lights were turned up once again. The guards all filed out of the room. Bond had noted the number of guards he saw. He had to take a major guess. They must have been in their hundreds. He would have to move fast to make himself not look too inconspicuous, he made his way out of the room into the middle of a large group. They all moved in single file through the tunnels. He had no idea where they were heading. He did not want to leave the group on fear that they might wonder why of his desertion. Bond moved his arms in time to how the rest of the guards were moving. The sultry airiness to the whole procedure carried on through the tunnels, reverberating through the darkness. The stamping of boots upon the ground was all Bond could hear. He followed behind the guard in front for what seemed like ten minutes. The tunnels were like a maze. Each tunnel coming off gave birth to more never-ending paths. It would be pointless for Bond to even try making a mental note of the layout. He continued to follow until he walked into another one of the much smaller rooms. This seemed to be some sort of wash room. It proved to be of very little use. The soap was of a pungent smell. It was not a pleasant place to be. Bond looked down at his watch. Although it had been badly damaged in the crash (filled with water). Bond had managed to get it working once again. He had set the dials early in the morning, with that of the lighthouse clock. The watch was now reading 12:01 pm. The morning had been filled with exploration. The afternoon was sure to be filled with death.

XV

Discoveries to death

Standing in this room gave Bond an eerie feeling. One of which gave him the feeling like he was being watched. The room was as dark as the corridors but he believed for a moment that he had seen a light appear behind him. Bond turned to look over his shoulder. Nothing was there, only the back wall. He was thinking he might be going mad. Bond thrust himself out of the room quickly and back out into the corridor. The guards had all gone back to their patrols. Bond was alone in this part the underground. He was planning on heading onwards, but in which direction? He needed a map. But it was soon apparent after some searching of the paths that there was not a single map in the entire area. The guards seemed to know exactly where they were going. The tunnels also seemed to be made in layers. He would just have to keep on investigating. Bond moved in and out of the various tunnels, on each turn expecting to find something new. Indeed on occasion he would either have to pass a patrolling guard or on the off chance he would find a door leading away it only ever turned out to be something similar to a supply cupboard. These rooms were good opportunities for Bond to grab some food. All of this running about was giving him such a large appetite. The doorways started to become less frequent and so Bond was contemplating that he was coming to the end of the tunnels or going in completely the wrong direction. Had he truly made it to the end? No, he had only made it to one side of the island. Bond made a turning into one of the few remaining doors in this particular tunnel. The tunnel through this door seemed to loop round and starting heading back the way Bond had come. It was becoming apparent to Bond that there was something about the passageways. In lettering only a few centimetres high were the words BARRACKS followed by a large arrow. The lettering was the same colour as the walls. There was no wonder as to why Bond could not find his way around. Now that he knew how the guards managed to never get lost, he hoped he would be able to move around with ease. This was also true. He managed to reach the guards barracks in no time at all. There was light coming through the roof. The ceiling had been fitted with a number of skylights. They were able to allow quite a lot of sunlight in. The room was fully lit. The walls on either side of the room were lined with military looking beds. All of which had been left in the most pristine condition possible. Beside each bed was a locker. Bond walked over the first bed, opened up the locker and had a look inside. The lockers seemed to contain nothing, but a cup and some spare linen. None of the beds were currently being occupied. There was a door on the other side of the room. Bond walked over to this door and just like he had done with every other door on the island, he opened it up with caution. After making sure it was safe, he went on through. The second door, backed onto a long tunnel, with light at the end. It was leading outside. Bond could make out the bottom of a group of clouds. Bond burst into a run once more and made his way outside.

Bond was overlooking the sea, looking back outwards towards what would be England. The coastline of Devon looked white. The many beaches lined the entirety of the horizon. Bond stopped for a moment to take in the view and was standing upon the side of a cliff. A balcony had been placed upon the cliff, coming out of the tunnel. There was a set of stairs leading up to his left. Bond walked up cautiously. The top was bare. A concrete slab was placed into the ground. The slab was in a hexagonal shape. There appeared to be a large, bold letter H painted across its top. Bond presumed this was a helicopter landing pad. There seemed to be very little activity going on at this part of the island. From what Bond could see there was only a large manor house overlooking the western side of the island. Of course, this had to be where Burnside was hiding. Bond surveyed the best way to get there. Obviously he could go over the top. But Burnside was sure to have protected himself well. The only other alternative was to follow the tunnels again in order to find the manor. Bond walked back the way he had come. The lights around the landing pad began flashing. Bond dived for the long grass to one side of the landing pad. He was only a few metres away from the safety of the stairs. Bond watched as the large, white helicopter landed upon the pad. The door was opened by one of the two pilots. They immediately escorted some passengers off of the flight. Bond instantly recognized each one of them. They were the members of Burnsides team. Each had all been at the meeting in Oxford. Bond raised his gun. With one shot he could easily take out the pilot. It was no use. Bond continued to lie in the grass, trying to stay still. A grass snake came up to him and climbed over his body. The snake did not seem to notice Bond laying on the ground. There was a good amount of camouflage on Bond, The guards uniform he was wearing seemed to be doing the trick. The helicopter powered down. The pilots left the helicopter and made their way down the stairs towards the barracks. Bond stayed hidden, he did not want to start arousing suspicion as to his whereabouts. The guests had been escorted over the top of the island towards the manor. Bond needed to get there fast. Something big might be coming into plan and Bond needed to be part of it. He looked down at his watch, ten hours to go until the big test. It would have made more sense for there to be a car for them to be taken over to the mansion. It suddenly occurred to Bond, that apart from the helicopters landing, this island was void of all vehicular necessities. He thought this was strange for someone like Burnside to put up with. A large cloud of smoke billowed out from behind a hillside. He stopped and watched for a moment until the group was out of his sights. The helicopter was on the landing pad by its own, alone. Bond looked around quickly, checking to see if anyone was watching, apparently not. He got up and crouched into a run over to the helicopter. The doors did not appear to be locked. After peering in through the windows, he opened up the door and jumped in. He made sure the door was closed, before carrying on with the investigating. Beside the pilot's seat sat the schedule for the helicopter for the day. It seemed to be nothing but deliveries too and fro from the island. Nothing particularly stuck out from the list. He searched through the holders in the helicopter. There was very little, only a few of the pilots personal belongings. Bond did not think that taking the belongings would serve any purpose. After the search, he left the helicopter. Bond needed to also think of how he was going get off the island. The helicopter may be the only way. Bond needed the helicopter to stay here. He remembered the schedule. The helicopter would be making its way back here in a few hours time. It would be ideal for him to be in this place at that time. Bond decided to make his way into the barracks. The pilots were both sat on the beds. "Bit of a rough ride today" said a pilot

"Yes, I hope Mr. Burnside's guests were ok?"

"They all seemed to be fine."

"Well that's another job well done then."

"Of course." Bond had almost made it past them, when one of the pilots decided to engage him in conversation.

"What did you think of the guests?"

"Oh nothing really." Bond had to think of things to say in response. "They just looked like the ordinary types."

"I think I have seen them about before. There's definitely something going on here. It all seems too mysterious to just be a meeting. There always seems to be these guards walking about. You know what I mean don't you?"

"Yes" said Bond. The other pilot had picked up a magazine out of his locker and started reading.

"There is always smoke coming out of those chimneys. Every time we fly over, there's smoke. Why would there be smoke on the island. Are they filming something here? Like a movie? Me and John just fly here; wait in this room for our chopper to be filled up and its back to England for us."

"Oh I can't say what's going on. Its all secret to us guards as well." Bond continued to head for the door. These people did not have a clue what was really going on. But those chimneys he spoke of. They seemed interesting, very interesting indeed. Bond wanted to investigate them. Bond worked out that the chimneys would also be close to the west side of the island, most likely beyond the manor. Bond planned in his head how he would get there. Firstly he had to get rid of the guards. "Well, I must be off now. Hope to see you soon. Bye."

"Yes, hope we see you on our next trip over here." Bond left the room through the first door and waited on the other side.

There was silence in the tunnels. A faint roar, like an explosion had been set off, occurred every few minutes. Bond walked slowly back through the tunnels. Looking for any signs that he could find as too the whereabouts of these chimneys. The words on the walls were becoming less and less. The directions towards the manor were never shown. Bond had to make his way over, through the use of his mind. The tunnels lead in different directions; it was difficult to find the right tunnels to take in order for him to find the way to the manor. He was having to move fast, but stayed cautious to the fact that the guards were still patrolling about. The gun he had been carrying was too heavy and was slowing him down. He quickly ditched this and took out the pistol he had carried on his back. The tunnels were getting shorter. Bond could feel the heat from the factories making their way towards him at every turn. It needed to be investigated. Bond made his way into the heat. It was becoming quite unbearable. The sweat was beginning to run down his face like a torrential rain. He was getting close to the heats source. A large orange glow was occurring around the next corner. It lit up the tunnels as Bond probed deeper and deeper. Bond ran up to the edge. He did not want to touch the walls in case he was burnt. Once the glow had stopped he put his head slightly round the corner. There was a vent of flame coming out of the wall. There seemed to be some sort of hatch next to the flame. Bond waited as the flames curled at him once more. He waited, feeling the heat upon his body. The uniform was beginning to drip with the sweat. Bond timed the flames as lasting no more than a minute, with a pause of two minutes. He should have enough time. Once the flames had stopped again, he made his move. He slung a second bandana around his hands and prepared himself. The metal of the door would be boiling hot. He had to protect his hands somehow. Moving fast, Bond made it too the door. He had less than a minute and a half left to go. He pressed down upon the doors handle. It had to be turned. The lock was down. Bond started to turn the handle. The wheel was stiff. It needed to be budged at first. It got easier to turn after Bond gave the protruding handle a good kick. He now had less than thirty seconds to get through the door. He looked down seeing that the fabric was wasting away quicker by the second. Bond tried to open the door, but it would not do so. He continued to turn. The vent was beginning to fire back up again. The heat was getting worse. He turned and turned the wheel until the door gave a click. He jabbed the doors lock downwards and flung the door open. In doing so, the flames came gushing out of the vent. They caught the door. The flames covered the outside, bursting over the top and through the sides. Bond waited before he continued. He managed to tuck himself between the doors edges, covering him from being burnt to death. The heat was unbearable. He watched as the door began to glow an evil red. Bond was extremely grateful for the horror to finally end a few seconds later. He walked through the door and inspected his hands. The fabric was gone and both his hands were red raw. They felt a thousand times worse now. He did not bother to close the door and placed the lock back on. This new tunnel was dark. It had a pungent smell to the whole atmosphere. Bond walked on down. He could make out a few objects that stood in his way. They were quickly over come. Bond thought for a moment that he had seen a rat moving about within what looked like waste. This tunnel was leading him somewhere quite rotten. The smell became very bad in the back of his throat. It was like some sort of chemical agent was being used ahead. Bond had a thought that the flames were being powered by the gases. It would explain a part of what was happening in the factories.

The factories were planned to be producing the chemical XCELL. Bond was here to find out what was going on and put a stop to the production. The tunnel was coming to an end. There appeared to be a grate up ahead. He had been wadding through the dirt for some time. The steady flow of dirty water had started to seep in through the lace holes in his boots. His whole body was suffering in one way or another. The grate was made of a strong metal. The bolts on each side had been screwed in double. It would be impossible for him to remove them by hand. His pistol was tucked back into his beltline. He placed his hands upon the grate and pushed as hard as he could. It would not budge. He tried again, even harder this time. It still would not move. Bond tried to see if anyone was on the other side. Apparently it looked deserted. He got the gun out and aimed at the bolts. He let rip with two shots. The sound of the gun firing reverberated around the tunnels. The bolts disintegrated onto the floor. He aimed once again at two other bolts whilst trying to hold the gun steady in his hands. These too ended up on the floor. He pushed once again at the grate, this time it moved, allowing enough room for Bond to move under. He looked around once again. No one was there. It seemed as though he had gotten away with his actions. The grate was there to filter out any of the larger pieces of debris. He had needed to push some of these pieces out of the way, before going through. This seemed to be like the inside of a sewer and could be in fact the only sewer on the entire island. Bond placed his hand over his mouth to mask the smell. The stench was repulsive. Bond decided to follow the river of slime back to its source. The pipe, from which the slime was falling from, was far too small for Bond to enter into. So it was now a case of getting through one of the much larger pipes and further on into the heart of the factory. Bond managed to find a larger pipe a few paces along the walkway. The darkness took over once again. There was now nothing to guide Bond through the waters. He tried to feel his way forwards. It was more difficult than Bond had originally thought. Every time he placed his hands forwards along the wall, he ended up putting his hand into a part of congealed slime which was running down the sides. The stream beneath his feet seemed to grow higher the further he walked forwards. There were parts of the tunnel in which the ground had fallen away. The soil did not go any lower, but the holes in the tunnels had allowed the water to become something like a paste. Bond occasionally placed his foot into these holes, forcing him to spend time removing his leg. Bond could feel the slime drenching the bottom of his trousers, soaking in though the fabric so that it covered his legs. Ahead the tunnel seemed to turn a corner before Bond stepped out into a wide area. He could see the waters source. Above his head were pipes that lead upwards. The water was falling downwards and then being carried outwards through the single pipe. For safety purposes around the island, the sewers seemed to have been built with ladders coming out of the sewers to one side. Bond began to climb, taking each step carefully. The slime had also fallen onto the ladders rungs. He only managed to slip on two occasions. Scaring himself for his life as the second fall occurred quite close to the top. The ladder came to a landing outside of a door. The platform he was standing on looked back down over the sewers. They seemed vast with a huge waterfall of rubbish cascading downwards. Bond felt himself lucky that he was finally going to get himself out of this horrible place. He turned and opened up the door. The darkness followed Bond into this next room. There was a minimal amount of light being let into the room. Compared to the others Bond had been in, it was a help upon his eyes. The air suddenly went stale again. The smell of the sewer was starting to die away from the air, but this new smell was something different.

"We meet again." Bond knew the voice all too well. It just could not be possible.

"Indeed we do and this time I am definitely going to make sure you are dead." It was the guard he had shot over Christmas. How could he still be alive?

"As you can see I survived easily. You are such a poor shot. You should know that shooting me in the chest was not going to do much. I have survived much more."

"That's not what I would say after I left you on the floor."

"Bah! You talk such feeble words little man. I am going to kill you here and now." The guard came running at Bond. He was in shock he could not fire off one of the shots in the gun at the guard. Bond leapt to one side. The guard passed by him, but slid to a halt. He turned and ran straight at Bond again. Bond kept on dodging his attacks. This was becoming slightly monotonous. The room was not that big, so dodging the attacks was a difficulty altogether. The guard ran at Bond again. This time he managed to clip Bond by the shoulder. Due to the guard's height and weight, Bond was knocked spinning onto the floor. Bond tried clutching at the part which hurt but it was no use. The guard picked Bond's whole body up and threw it against the wall. The gun in Bond's hand flew across the room. Bond was in immense pain. He tried standing up but fell back onto the floor. The guard walked over to Bond's body picked it up again and threw high against the opposite wall. Bond needed to get himself together and fight back. Without his gun it was going to be difficult to stop this monster. Bond put all of his strength into his legs and managed to stand himself up. His back was the worst part of his body to be hurting. Bond ran over to the guard, managing to get the guard into a grapple. Bond was giving it his best. He pushed and held on with all his might. The guard was giving it his all as well. All that running about had seemed to have tired the guard out. The grappling carried on across the room. Occasionally one of them would get the advantage and deliver a blow. Bond tried kicking the guard hard in the testicles. But the guard did not flinch once at the meagre blow. Bond then tried hitting him in a variety of places. All of which he had been trained over the last month to know. These areas were designed to temporarily paralyse the victim. But it was no use. None of this seemed to be working. The guard won the next grapple and now had Bond in a headlock. He was squeezing harder and harder. Bond's head felt like it was going to explode. The guards arm would not budge, not even an inch. His vice like grip was beginning to cut off Bond's airway. He needed to think fast. The loss of air also meant a lack in Bond's concentration. He struggled in and out of consciousness. It was now or never. Bond pulled at the arm, simultaneously biting into one of the arms bulging veins. The guard definitely felt some pain. His grip loosened ever so slightly. His other hand grabbed at Bond's hair trying to pull it out. Bond held on tight. He was giving it all he could. There was no letting go for Bond. Instead, the guard let go of Bond and started to nurse at his arm. Bond gasped for air, something very difficult to do in such horrid conditions. The guard looked angrily over at Bond. He started walking across the room to hit at him. Bond ducked quickly enough to dodge this attack. The guard's fist plummeted into the wall. Small pieces of concrete struck Bond across the face. Nothing too harmful only a small cut. Bond blocked the following punch and delivered a mighty blow of his own. It was enough to send the guard stumbling backwards across the room. Bond ran towards the now unsteady guard and crashed another punch into his face. The guard was obviously suffering intensely. Bond had an idea. On his next punch, he aimed it at the spot where he had fired him. The guard fell once again onto his knees and clutched the part of his chest which was now feeling inflamed. Bond could see the man suffering. he picked up the gun. "This is it. Now it's your time to finally die." The guard laughed.

"Third times a charm."

"Exactly." Bond placed the gun on back of the guard's neck. The guard murmured a few final words.

"Cмерть."1 So the guard was Russian, a prized fighter none the less. Bond felt some remorse flow through his body; this all seemed very unfair for the guard. Bond could not take that chance. There were people to be saved. His finger quivered upon the trigger. Judgement was being served. He pulled the trigger. The guard's body fell forwards. His weight created a large boom through the room. The blood exited his body, running down his neck and onto the floor. The guard was finally dead. Bond had made sure of that. He removed the radio off of the guard's body and switched it off. To make sure that it was completely broken Bond threw the radio against the wall. Bond emptied out the rest of ammunition in his gun, replacing it with a new clip inside. The guard's body was extremely heavy to deal with. Bond walked over to the first door and opened it up. The sound of the waterfall of sewage burst into the room, similar could be said of the smell hitting Bond's nostrils. He dragged at the body making little progress. He managed to get the guard over to the waterfall. He put all of his strength into lifting the body. In one swift move he pushed the body over the railings. He watched and waited for the splash as the guard hit the water at the bottom.

"Time to take out the garbage."

He stood back up and walked over to the door. This one was on the other side of the room. He walked through making sure to carefully close the doors behind him. He did not want anyone to find the body or to follow him. He carried on through the corridor, momentarily having to stop in order for him to see to the wounds on his body. He had taken quite a blow during the fight. He would not have lasted much longer. His stamina had greatly dropped and the pains running through his hands were becoming unbearable. Worst of all he was exhausted. Bond wanted to fall asleep, collapse into a deep slumber. His eyelids were beginning to close. Suddenly Bond heard a noise. He stood and looked both ways down the corridor. He could see a figure. He did not want to take a chance. He fired off a shot. The figure collapsed onto the floor. Bond walked over to find out it was another guard. Bond looked down at the dead body. He could see the clean clothes the guard was wearing. It would not do for Bond to be wearing the old guard's uniform anymore. The blood had seeped into the clothes. He would be easily recognised with the red marks. Bond removed the stained clothing, throwing it down the corridor. He was down to wearing the basic civilian clothing. The salt from the sea had made this clothing fairly stiff. He quickly took the second guards uniform and put it on. The blood was less upon these clothes. Bond took out the guard's gun, fired off a shot and placed the gun in his beltline. He had to think fast. Bond continued to walk on holding the wounds on his body with one of his arms. The gun was still in his other hand. His mind was slightly awkward. The hits against the walls had made his head bang at a considerable rate. He was slowly gaining his memory back, but seemed to be suffering from a slight amnesia. He had to sit down on the floor and close his eyes. The time must have been coming up to at least five in the afternoon. All this travelling around was causing him to be fairly tired. Bond rubbed the temples of his head, gun still in hand. He got up and walked on along the corridor. The smell of bleach was intolerable. He had to hold his nose, using the handkerchief from his breast pocket. Bond looked down the corridor, it was empty like the rest, except, for the sights of another door. This one happened to have a vent to one side of it. Bond lifted his gun up. His hand still over his mouth moved over to the door. His eyes began to water. Whatever was causing this was very strong. Bond looked through the vent. He could see very little. He could not hear much coming from the next room. He opened up the door to find the inside of a large warehouse. There were metal containers lining each side. He looked upon the writing. Each had NYX chemicals, painted upon them. He tried to open one of the containers. But this was impossible to do with one hand. It was useless. He was gasping for air and was still deep under the ground. Bond ran forwards under what looked like a large water tank. It had the words XCELL, printed in fifteen foot letters. His eyes were still watering slightly. There seemed to be an opening in one corner of the warehouse. He made his way over as fast as he could. It was a long chute. The top was open. Bond could feel the cold air making its way downwards. He removed the handkerchief from his mouth and tried to take a long drawn in breath. For once he was truly grateful that he could feel the cool air entering him. For the first time, he could take in how big the warehouse seemed to be. It was spanning a huge area, similar size to a football pitch. Bond could see the large water tower, there was numerous pipes and tubes running out of the tank. Bond could hear the chemicals inside bubbling away. He was trying to hold his breath as he moved. The chemicals were not staying completely in the tank. There was a steady stream of XCELL falling from the valves. Bond stayed at the chute until he worked out exactly where he needed to go. With all the containers in the room it was difficult for Bond to see any particular doors. Bond noticed that the pipes leading out of the tanks were heading through the vents in the walls. Bond decided he would need to follow them. He could see a door on the other side of the room, but they all seemed to be locked when he tried. Bond gave the door a shoulder bash, in the hope of moving it. Luckily after a few attacks the door gave way, just as Bond was about to choke. The handkerchief did not seem to be doing him much good. The taste of bleach and the horrible smells were bad. But h was moving away form these effects. It all seemed to have died down almost completely in the next room. There was a series of white coats hanging up against the walls. A number of gas masks also lined certain sections. Bond quickly picked these up and put them on. He took a large breath through the gas mask. It was very much a better sensation to be breathing now. The door in front was large. A single green sign above the door was switched on. It beckoned people to enter.

XVI

The liquid death

The factory was big, possibly five times larger than the warehouse. Bond was stood looking over the top of the room. This part resembled the look of a control room. Bond cold see far out across the factory floor. There was everything was white in colour. He could see the vats of chemicals swirling like whirlpools, spitting out the vicious colours. No controls were in the booth. He could see the chemicals coming together, being mixed in one large open topped pot. Bond watched as the scientists walked too and fro between the many machines. They were seen turning dials and looking upon the chemicals. They all seemed to be wearing the same outfit that he was wearing. Bond needed to find a way to put a stop to all this production. He walked around the booth, looking at the different parts. On one side were the chemicals being pumped in through a set of large tubes. The scientists were all here checking to make sure everything was running smoothly. The other side had what looked like the finished product. The XCELL chemicals were coming out of the machine and into different sized barrels. The booth housed a ladder which extended down to the work floor. Bond pulled on the lever to lower the ladder down. The hatch opened up and Bond descended down to the work floor. It was even bigger from down here. The machines had looked somewhat smaller from above. The smoke emanating out of the tops of the mixing pots were all pungent. Every few minutes he would have to wipe the condensation from the gas mask. It was becoming a bad habit. Bond idly walked in and out of the machines. How was he going to get away with this? So many people watching him at all times, so many people liable to be killed. Bond needed to find out what the chemicals were being used for in the end. He headed over to what he believed to be the finished product. He could not see where they were finally being transported too. A large lift seemed to ferry the barrels upwards through the ceiling and up towards the surface. But Bond could not be sure. It was useless at this end of the production line. Bond headed for the beginning. Some of the scientists stopped and watched as he walked about. They seemed to be growing curious as to who he was and why he was here. Even with the gas mask on, it was fairly plain to see that he was not the average type of scientist working in this area. Bond tried to throw them off by stopping and watching some of the dials. This seemed to work out well for him. The scientists went back to carrying out what they were doing. Bond waited for ten minutes before he moved onwards. The pipes at the beginning of the chain were coming in though the walls and then were bolted onto the ground. He could see that the tubes were rumbling with the fluids flowing fast through them. Bond followed the pipes until they entered at the top of one of the pots. He had to climb up a spiral set of stairs, which wrapped around the large pot. Bond reached the top and looked in. The machines were stirring away at the chemicals. They were being added in huge amounts. The pots had what looked like a funnel leading out of the bottom. They passed by Bond. Inside was the impure mixture, that was too be XCELL. Bond continued to follow the mixture as it made its way through the final few machines. It was in these machines that the mixture was filtered and finally purified to become XCELL. Its final colour was like that of a rosy red. Though what the mixing machines had eventually created was something quite dazzling in looks, it was sure to be deadly and cause much damage. Bond could see by the many warning signs that the mixture was a very deadly combination. He made sure as to walk carefully, as so not to fall into anything. Bond went back to checking the dials. Each seemed to be showing readings for different parts of the mixture. There were dials for the pot's temperature, capacity of the gases and a few showing the amount of mixture within the tanks.

Bond was thinking how he would go about destroying such a large production line. He had to hit a major blow in the most vital part. Bond walked back to the start. This time taking in, how everything was working, where there were vital points. It was important for him to memorise where everything was. The planning was going to be the most important part of this whole operation. After checking and re-checking the machines, he decided he would attack at the point in which the mixture had just been purified. It was most important that it was the final chemical that was destroyed rather than those at the beginning. Bond continued to carry out faux work upon the machines. The scientists were definitely getting suspicious as to who he was. His disguise would not last much longer.

"OPEN VALVES! EVERYONE GET AWAY!" Bond heard the shouting, and watched what the other scientists did. The scientists all ran for one of the side rooms. Bond followed, being huddled somewhere in the middle of the group. He tried to watch what was about to happen. A lone scientist was still standing outside by the machines. He pulled down on a lever attached to the mixing machines. The machine began to rumble. A vent to one side seemed to change; its appearance slightly making it look like something inside was opening up inside. Bond could just make out a dial on the side of the machine. The dial reading gas pressure was showing that the pressure was at full to bursting point. Suddenly, there was a large blowing sound as the gas in the machine was vented out. There was a long loud piercing whistling sound. The sound lasted a number of minutes. The scientist at the machine was wearing a pair of ear defenders. Bond wished that he had a pair of these right now. His ears were starting to hurt. He just could not put up with the sound. Bond presumed that the scientists moved to these rooms in a case that the gas was to vent out into the room, in which case they would be somewhat safe. In what way, Bond was unsure. He could not see how they would keep out of trouble. The lone scientist was chosen to be given the risky job of pulling the lever and making sure the process ran accordingly. The noise soon finished. It tailed off at the end. At no point had Bond reached up to cover his ears. As he walked back out with the group, he could still hear the faint sounds of ringing vibrating around his hearing. Soon they were given the signal to get back to work. Bond followed and went back to the same place he had previously been standing at. He made out that he was doing work. He did not see the scientist coming up to see him.

"So, how is the CMU doing?" Bond was taken by surprise.

"Oh, its doing just fine, thanks you."

"And the PPL?"

"The same." Bond had no idea what the scientist was talking about.

"Your new here aren't you?"

"Yes, I was brought onto the island to help out with the chemicals. I previously worked at Aldermaston."

"I see." The scientist seemed to not be believe him. "Who did you used to work for?"

"Doctor Barkley." Bond knew of a particular Doctor Barkley who worked there. He had visited the school on a number of occasions. Giving lectures to the students about the welfare of nuclear physics. As soon as this name was muttered from Bond lips, the scientist somehow seemed to be impressed. The scientist leant over Bond and pushed down on some buttons. The machine gave a weird sound. It seemed to be mixing at a faster rate.

"Don't want to make Mr. Burnside mad now do we." ("Speak for yourself." Thought Bond) "How is Dr Barkley these days anyways. I have not seen him in a while. It must have been last summer during the conference. Has he managed to make any new breakthroughs?"

"I would not really know. I just had the job of looking over the chemical input."

"So you're a "twiddler" then?"

"What's a twiddler?"

"It's what we call someone who spends all day pressing buttons and turning the dials. Kind of a menial job really." This scientist seemed to be getting rather close to Bond. As if he was looking for a friend.

"It's a living."

"Come on, you could do so much more in this job. I'm sure you have the brains for a much higher job."

"Maybe I do. Do you think you could teach me?" Bond was playing along with the whole charade. Backing out now would give him away. He had managed to work his way through the questions with minor difficulty so far. It did not matter much though. Bond still had his gun under the lab coat. It would serve him well, if he came into any trouble.

"I would be more than happy to teach you some basics tips. Come follow me. Your work here is about to become something new and more exciting. By the way, my name is Dr. Edwards and your name is?" The scientist was looking cautious. Whatever Bond said next, would determine what the scientist did in return.

"It's Dr. Pearl." The scientist gave him a faint smile. Bond did not give his real name, just in case the scientists were also on the look out for anyone who looked or was called Bond. The two of them walked along the production line and up a flight of stairs, previously not seen by Bond.

"This, Pearl is the commanding office. From here you can see all of the production line. We are able to control the whole process solely from here. It's heavily guarded and it requires particular codes to be inputted even to make the slightest adjustments. Now, we shall start off with some simple tasks. I want you to take hold of the controls and adjust the level of chemical input. We are on a set target and it needs to be met. Ok, just sit upon this chair and wait a moment. I need to go set the controls." Bond did so. He waited for Dr. Edwards to return. He was going to be in control of the machines. Some would see this as an ideal opportunity for anarchy. Dr. Edwards soon returned. "Right, first turn this lever up to 500, if the pressure grows too much, just press upon this button and it shall be vented out to the dump tank. It is such a simple task, have no fear. Keep your eyes upon the dials. I shall also have control over what you are doing." Bond had planned to hijack the controls, bringing the process to a big end. Bond did as Edwards said to do and got the chemicals adding at a greater rate. "Excellent work Pearl. A little bit more work and you should be qualified to work in this area of the production line. I will definitely put you on the list for promotion. You can get back to work now. I shall finish off here. Bond did as he as told and walked back down the stairs. Bond felt something was not right. He sensed that Dr. Edwards was hiding something. Like he had found out who Bond really was. His actions when teaching Bond were quite strange. Bond paused, before he got to the bottom of the stairs. The process was flawed. Bond walked down the rest of the stairs slowly. Just then, it clicked in his mind. It was the flaw. Dr. Edwards looked similar to someone he had seen before, someone not so far in his past. The voice was similar. It was him. Potts! The chief engineer, it was him! Bond ran back up the stairs, missing some steps completely. The door to the control room had now been locked from the inside. Bond tried to barge it open with his shoulder, but it would not move. Bond ripped the gun from its holster. He was going to try and shoot the door open. But it was too risky. He would need to get through the door in anyway possible. Bond heaved at the door, attempting to get in through to the other side. The door was shut tight. He kicked at the little amount of woodwork around the frame. It managed to move slightly. This was a good thing. Bond continued to kick at the door. The scientists down below did not seem to hear him making his attacks. The machines increase in productivity seemed to have made them louder. Bond kicked at the door. The locking system fell off onto the floor with a clank. Its metal, bounced at first, then fell down onto the stairs. He was breaking the door down. The wood splintered at the side. He was through. Potts was on the other side of the door, standing in the corner opposite to the door. He fired a shot at Bond. Bond managed to get out of the way. The wood now had a large bullet hole. Bond moved quickly into the room. His speed was lightening fast. Potts was also moving now around the room. He was firing at Bond, the bullets flying through the windows around the control room. "You're not going to put an end to this" shouted Bond.

"I am only going to put an end to you" yelled Potts. He fired another series of shots. Bond now firing back aimed well but missed on nearly all attempts. "Bah this is useless" he said. Potts yanked on a large blue lever. It operated one of the cranes hanging over the work floor. It picked up a large piece of scaffolding. The crane lifted the blue metal over the workforce. As Potts came round the control room once more he pulled on another lever. He pulled it hard enough to snap the control stick in half. It came apart. Still in Potts hands, he let go of the handle. Potts laughed as the crane moved faster. It was coming towards the control room. The metal was dangling in such away that it would destroy the control box. Bond watched in horror as the metal came crashing through the rest of the windows. The workers below stopped, looked up and watched as the control box shattered into pieces.

The crane dragged the scaffolding into the back wall of the control box. Bond was lying upon the top of the stairs. The moment he could see the metal about to crash through, Bond dived for the door. He slid across the floor and hit the opposing wall outside the box. Covering himself up with his arms, he huddled himself into a ball. Potts on the other hand had stayed behind. He had died laughing. The scaffolding crashed into him, dragging him across the floor and into the back wall. Bond looked back into the now demolished control room. "That was a crushing blow" he said. The machines were still in production. Now that Potts was out of the way. He could finish off the job.

XVII

Emergency stop

The scientists had all gathered around the damage. In unison they looked up at Bond. The blood he had spilt was running down his lab coat. It was aware to them all, that he was not one of them.

"It's him!" one shouted. "It's the intruder." The scientists all started running up the stairs towards Bond.

"No time for me to be sitting around." Bond stood upwards and limped over to the side of the stairs. There was a long drop before the rubble of the box started. It was his only chance. He would have to jump. The scientists were hot on his heels. He leapt from the top of the stairs and landed upon the slope of rubble. There was an overwhelming pain shooting up his leg. He slid down a piece of concrete and carried onto the work floor. The lab coat was dragging him back. He took it off, but kept the gas mask on. The machines were still working at full capacity. He could not believe that he had been tricked into increasing the production of XCELL. The one thing he was here to destroy. Bond ran between the machines. He had to find somewhere to hide. The room was now full of angry scientists. He estimated that the numbers totalled close to thirty members of staff. Bond did have enough ammunition upon him, but it would only work if he did not miss a single shot. The pipes were moving about with the liquids inside. Bond could see the scientists walking about in groups. He had also seen them split up and head off in different directions. Bond tried to work out what he could do to stop them. He saw a scientist coming upon to his left. Moving away to the right seemed clear enough. He chose his moment and ran to the right. The scientist shouted something. Bond turned and fired a shot. It caught the scientist in his chest. He fell to the ground, writhing in pain. He soon lay motionless. Bond climbed on top of a machine. He watched as a group ran past. He fired a bullet into the last members back. They fell forwards, crashing into one of the machines. Bond jumped down, running over to the large mixing machine. It was close to impossible to escape from up here. But Bond had a plan. He waited for a scientist to come to the top of the stairs. As soon as they arrived, Bond grabbed hold of them. Dealing with them in hand to hand combat, he flipped them over into the pot. The scientist screamed as his body was being burned to death. It was too late to get him out. Bond ran back down the stairs and over towards the side of the mixing tank. He aimed at the pipes and fired some shots at the bolts. The tube connected to the final output, burst from its holdings. The XCELL leaked out of the tube. It was flying all over the place, spilling hundreds of litres. Bond turned and ran, the bottom of his shoes barely being able to get away from the following wave of chemicals. By dodging and diving Bond was able to get to the ladder he had come in from. He quickly jumped up some of the way and started to climb. A scientist managed to grab hold of him by the leg. He started to pull Bond back down. Bond could not pull himself up. More and more scientists turned up to grab hold of Bond. He fired down at the scientists. A few took immediate retaliation, by firing back. Bond was only hit once in the back of the leg. He shouted in pain. The sea of gas masks looked up at him. Their numbers had fallen to the middle teens. He had almost gotten rid of them. The scientists had a back up plan. They tried to grab at Bond. A number of scientists left the rest of the group and headed into one of the side rooms. Bond looked around. The machine was still spewing out the mixture; the scientists were still trying to get at Bond. He had made some progress in climbing up. But then again, so did the scientists. They continued to climb up and tried to pull him down. Bond's foot slipped for a moment and he was pulled down the ladder. "Get off" he shouted. The mixture was getting closer. If he could hold them off for a moment. He should be able to get them burned. It would help. Bond fired one more shot downwards. The first scientist climbing up fell backwards, knocking the rest of the scientists who were climbing, back down onto the ground. Bond climbed the rest of the ladder as quickly as he could, his leg hurting worse. He was losing blood quickly from the numerous wounds. The hatch above him opened up automatically. Bond thought nothing of it. He looked down to see the scientists all scrambling to get up.

Bond laughed as he saw them struggling. Suddenly a number of gloved hands reached down and pulled at Bond. He was lifted up through the hatch and slammed onto the ground. A gun was being pointed at him. The gas masks came round and surrounded his body. They kicked at his hands, knocking the gun far away from him. It slid across the floor a short way, close to the windows. Bond did nothing. He watched as the hatch was closed. One of the scientists locked the other door. The rest of the scientists down there were liable to be caught be the wave of mixture.

"What do you want?" shouted Bond

"We want you" said the lead scientist. Bond tried to struggle free. "Don't try it Mr. Bond. We have you under our control now. One wrong move and you will be killed. I can guarantee that." One of them started to search through Bond's pockets.

"There's nothing here, only some ammunition."

"That's not going to help you now." Bond watched as two of the four scientists walked over to start discussing about what was the best thing to do with Bond. He looked over to the other scientists. They were holding his arms down, staring at the other two. They looked like lap dogs waiting for their master to give them orders. The one holding the gun had now turned his head looking at the two discussing. They seemed to start out talking, and then were arguing. It was about what to do. Whether to kill him or take him out alive to see Burnside. One was willing to keep Burnside from getting his hands dirty, where as the other wanted to see if he would get a reward for his services. Bond decided to make the choice for them. He flicked his legs up, to kick at the gun. The guard did not know what hit him. The gun recoiled, smacking him in the face. He let go of Bond's arm allowing him to swipe at the other. He did not flinch away, but likewise took the swipe in the face. He did not get off of Bond's arm. The guard started shouting for the other two to come over and help. They did so quickly. The first one with the gun was holding his face in pain. The impact had gone into the gasmask, causing the eye holes to be pushed into his skin. It was Bond against three others. With one hand free he punched into the air. He hit at two of the guards. The other was trying to get hold of the gun to shoot Bond. At last, his other hand was free. He got himself onto his feet. The scene was a shambles. Bond grabbed out onto the floor and picked up his gun. He smashed it against the glass of the booth, and momentarily watches as it shattered into the mixture below. Some of the scientists were still walking around down there. Bond looked down. He had no time to go back and open up the hatch. The scientists were coming after him. He jumped through the window, with no regard for what he might possibly be landing on. The edge of the booth had a small lip. He slowed himself down, before he completely fell forwards. In that brief second he had a very small chance to look down at the ground. The mixture had indeed spread wide across the work floor, but it had not covered all of the available area. The scientists who had been climbing up the ladder, like zombies, were now patrolling along the ground. Bond fell the last few metres, down towards a gap in the mixture. He landed with a thud. He tried to land upon his best leg. The impact sent a shiver running through his legs. The scientists left down here were more concerned with the saving of themselves other than trying to get at Bond. Bond dropped his gun into his beltline. He walked along against the wall towards the side room. If those other scientists had made their way up, there must be another way out. He was forced to start running when one of the scientists in the booth started shooting at him.

The side room was the same that he had gone into earlier. He entered to find the rest of the scientists climbing up into a hatch above his head. He waited to see what they did next. It looked fairly simple. Bond jumped up and grabbed hold of the hatches edge. He pulled himself up, his leg still hurting. He had lost quite a bit of blood from that area, which made climbing through the hole a huge struggle all the while trying to stay conscience. When finally through, he hauled his body to one side and saw to his wound. He ripped some fabric from his trousers, undid his belt and tied the fabric to his wounds. There was a need to crawl along for a moment, before coming up to the corridor above. It was good to take in the breath of air. He removed his gas mask and took in a long drawn in breath, and then he started breathing out fast. He was seriously out of breath. Bond slumped against the wall, relaxing him. He waited to catch his breath. It was taking some time to do. Bond felt bad. He was bleeding from most parts of his body and he was exhausted. A thought flashed across his mind. The job was complete. He was not needed anymore. He could just finish now. Bond's minds had plans. He reached for his gun and looked down at it. The magazine button felt stiff too pushes in. It fell out onto Bond's hands. He could see the bullets shining away in front of him. Just one to do the job, it could all be over. He had been struggling up too now on the mission with the thought of his parent's deaths. Bond could imagine what his mother would have said if the knew the type of work he was doing. He could also imagine his Bondfather, laughing and being merry at the prospect. They all seemed to be doing this, every member of his family he imagined was cheering him on. This was a good sign. Bond felt a stroke of warmness sweep over him. He jammed the magazine back into the gun, cocking it for action.

It was done. The production was destroyed. Bond looked around at his surroundings. He adjusted his tie accordingly. The plan now was too find out where Burnside was. He would most likely be in the manor. This was the next place to be heading. The scientists seemed to have disappeared away from him. It was a good sign for Bond. He got himself off of the floor and walked slowly, hobbling on down the corridor. The tunnels were just ahead. He would soon be face to face with Burnside. It was a race against time now. Burnside was sure to find out about this destruction quickly. Bond pushed his way into a well lit room. For once the room he had entered did not require him to walk about in the dark. The tunnels pipes were smaller than Bond had been in before. Bond looked for any signs on the corners, to see if he could find the way he needed to be heading. There were none. The manor was somewhere very secluded by the looks of things. The maze of tunnels would be something difficult to get through to make it too the manor. This was a definite safety feature. People could get lost heading for the manor in this way. There appeared to be a stream of water running beneath his feet. Bond knelt down and tried smelling his way to see if he was heading back to the sewer. This was not the way he was meant to be heading. There was no smell to the water. It looked as if it was clear. He followed it upstream, and then came to another grill. He had only been left with the bullets in his gun. It was not many. The guard had taken his ammunition; he could not have gotten them back. So shooting at the bolts this time would be a waste. There were a number of other tunnels he could take. The tunnels were all lit. Bond thought he could hear an alarm going off somewhere. The lights in the tunnels must be turned on when the alarms goes off. Certainly having them on would stop any intruders from being hidden. Bond looked down the tunnels as he passed them. He could not see anything. They all looked the same. It was unfair to make any exact decisions as to where they might lead too. Bond chose a tunnel to go down. It lead round and back to where he had just been. Or at least he thought it had. Bond was lost. With nothing to help him on his way he did not know where to turn. Bond turned round. He completed several full turns before heading down another tunnel. This definitely took him somewhere else. There was a door at the end. It was a hope, something which he could use to see where he might be. He pushed it open and noticed the number of boxes in the room. It was a supply room. All of the crates had the same markings as those he had seen on the containers. Burnside's operations were no good. They had to come to an end after all the damage Bond had done. There were a number of supply rooms, from what Bond could find. He saw that crates were varying in quantity. Some were open, but had nothing in them. The straw that was used to pack the crates with was all that was left over. Bond was too occupied with investigating the crates, to see anything that was going on. A guard, who was already in the room, had been watching him. The guard stepped across the room and smacked Bond swiftly across the back of the head. Bond fell unconscious and collapsed onto the floor. The guard spoke into his radio to contact the others in the area. There was some feedback coming through the radio. Bond's radio was also talking at the same time.

"I have him. I am in supply room V. Come with handcuffs, were taking him to the cells. Burnside can come collect him from there." Bond's body lay there on the floor, whilst the rest of the guards came over to the room. They cuffed him up and dragged his body out towards the cells. He was captured and being taken through the tunnels. He was getting further away from the manor. It was his own incompetence, which put him at risk and his own incompetence that may get him killed.

XVIII

Tortured soul

Bond felt groggy. His head was spinning. His eyes sight was coming back together now. There was a single light, dangling from the ceiling. He tried to move his hands. It was no use they had been tied together. The floor felt cold as Bond rolled over onto his side. "Where am I?" he shouted.

"You're in the cells. Now shut up and just lay there."

"When is Burnside arriving?" Bond felt his back. He had been beaten up at some point since being knocked out. His eyes were coming back into focus. The previously grey looking objects had now made themselves into proper distinguishable shapes. He could see a table. It was standing in the corner. On top of the table sat a small candle, a plate with some bread upon it and finally an hourglass. Bond managed to haul himself up into a sitting position. The bed he was next too looked very uncomfortable. Bond tried it for measure and found the mattress to be as stiff as stone. "How long until he arrives then?"

"Just watch the hourglass, it will tell you. It is there to signal your end. Your too be killed by us when the sand runs out." Bond instantly recognised the voice of Burnside. Bond could just make out that there was a guard just sat there, reading into a copy to today's paper. Bond squinted his eyes to read the words in the headline. It read:

"_XCELL: the killer virus?"_

"So it's a virus you're unleashing on the world then?"

"Of course not" argued Burnside. He was standing outside the cell doors. Bond eyes had only just focused on everything else.

"XCELL is a biological weapon for this new world. It will destroy your governments from the inside one by one."

"How do you propose to go about doing that from this island?"

"With the rocket, we have."

"A ROCKET!"

"Yes, we are going to fire the rocket from the island over too London. It shall come down in the middle of parliament and…then BOOM! A bomb with enough power to level the capital." Bond was shocked. He wanted to lash out at the guard, but his hands were tied behind his back. He lay down on the bed. He always thought Burnside was going to be destroying government in a much smaller way.

"How could it be possible? We did all the research we could on you. Your dealings were little. All you did was provide chemicals to all the European countries. I have personally seen all money transfers. We had all the information, where did we go wrong?"

"You're missing the big picture here, Mr. Bond. The chemicals were indeed passed onto the countries. And we did receive payment for such deliveries. But there's more. Why not make some more money on the side? What if I was to add another element to the equation? My scientists have been working on the next stage for months now. By adding an additional additive to the mix I would be able to use the ordinary XCELL as a weapon. On its own it can only be used as a fuel. The countries are all making their own versions of this fuel and I am now in competition. The added mixture makes it's the biological weapon. Why not use that money to cripple one of those countries governments? With parliament in the worst mess imaginable, it would be impossible for anything to function within the state. There would be investigations as to who fired the rocket. Surely using the chemicals that were supplied, all of the countries would be under scrutiny of being investigated. In the mean time a war would be declared between each country. Our allies would become our enemies, and as a company with the chemical efficiency to cause such destruction. It would gain interest and hike up the demand. All we have to do is too supply those countries with more chemicals. Sending them the new mixture as their deliveries, or to put it another way, handing them the proof that's others need to call them the culprits. By being a monopoly again, we would make trillions, in profit. Your destruction of our production plant caused nothing. XCELL still lives on and you have stopped nothing. We will complete Operation D.O.V.E to schedule. We are re-building as we speak. In a few hours' time, the production will start again and you will be dead." Burnside gave a laugh. "I must admit though. You certainly are one persistent fellow. I have sent wave after wave of my people at you and none have proved their capabilities. Now if you will forgive me. I have some people to meet. I hope your death is made very painful for you. I show no remorse towards it. See you in hell."

"You're not going to get away with this" yelled Bond. "I will find you and stop your actions wherever you go."

"I think not Mr. Bond. For I have something that you want. And trust me, you want it bad." Bond racked his brain in thinking what it could be. He was just coming up blank. It was no use. He could not think what it could be. Burnside left the cells, carrying what looked like Bond's weapons with him.

Bond was alone with the guard. The paper seemed to be serving the guard well in the form of giving him entertainment. Bond looked over at the table. A mouse was having his lunch. It was dining out on the bread, they had left Bond. The candle was doing nothing to the room. It was pointless to have, with there already being a light in the room, and secondly they would obviously not allow a prisoner to have the power of fire in the room. Bond noticed that the candle had been lit at some point. The wax had dripped down towards the table. The wax had solidified upon its cooling down. The candle looked as if it was not conjoined to the table and would take quite some force before it would move. The hourglass was roughly half full. It too was connected to the table. The hourglass had been bolted down. Bond considered why they had done this. The whole group of islanders had obviously caught onto what Bond was getting up too. They knew that he might be up too his old tricks. They were not taking any chances. The hourglass was there to signal the end of Bond's life. When the last grains finished, they were ordered to kill him. Bond lay down on the bed, looking back up at the ceiling. He could not get himself into a comfortable position. He pondered what he was going to do. Now that he knew a rocket was involved it was going to add a new element to this, already difficult job.

Back when Bond was working late at the college. Bond often stayed behind with Miss Orico. They had helped each other out with their studies. As soon as the bell had tolled for the end of the day, Bond would head next door and spend the rest of the evening with Miss Orico. She needed to test the experiments for the following day. Bond was excellent when it came to maths. He would help Miss Orico out with any mathematical formulas she needed doing. Whereas, she would teach him a bit more about what she was doing. Bond knew that adding another element could have a starling result, when it came to creating a chemical mixture. Often, Bond would be asked to look through the Oxford Research Laboratory database on particular notes she could use. Bond's relationship with Miss Orico was strictly on a friend basis. She was settled in a happy relationship and so Bond was happy to help whenever he could. The Oxford Research Laboratory had only ever come up once more since leaving the college and that was when M had shown him the file on Burnside. The laboratory, had information regarding the trading going on between the chemical company and the rest of the world, but Europe mainly. The government also had copies of this information. But M had not wanted to cause too many problems and get the Ministry caught up in a stack of red tape.

The guard was not moving, apart from changing the page he was on. "Hey, can you undo these handcuffs. What's the point in me wearing them?"

"So that you don't try anything against us. You're our prisoner." Bond flicked away at the handcuffs, trying to unlock them somehow. Bond closed his eyes, trying not too believe that he was in this situation. All Bond could do was wait for the time to run out. He got bored with lying down. So he began to pace the room, occasionally leaning against the cell bars to read the newspaper. The guard was hesitant at first and so would turn the paper away. Bond would then shout in protest that he was being unfair. After a while the guard gave in and would allow Bond to read what news was going on. The guard cheered up and Bond tried to reason with him to take the handcuffs off. The guard still refused to do so, on the grounds that he would be punished. Bond worked out a quick plan. He would contort his body to get his arms round to his front and then get the guards keys. Bond walked over to the bed and began to move his body into different shapes. Only on two occasions did he get himself properly stuck. After fifteen minutes. He had done it. The handcuffs were now with his hands, facing the front. Bond walked slowly over to the cell bars. The guard was still preoccupied with his newspaper. Bond stuck his hands between two of the bars. He quietly lengthened the chain between the handcuffs out so that it was nice and taught. Bond held his arms out over the top of the guards head. He timed it well, watching to see if the guard had noticed his presence looming. Bond quickly brought the chain down and around the guard's neck. He pulled back tightly, sliding his hands back between the bars. The guard tried to yell out in pain. But it was no use. Bond was holding on tight. He was strangling the guard, ever more after every second. The guard was good. He was strong in will. The guard was quite capable of holding his breath for long periods for time. By strangling the guard he would be able to get the keys and get himself a way out. Bond pulled tighter upon the chain. The guard tried to get his hands under the chain. It was not happening. It was too tight upon his neck. The guard let out his last breath. His head fell to one side, with his mouth open. Bond gave the smallest chuckle, when the guards tongue rolled out of his mouth. It was like something out of the movies. Bond released the chain and moved his arms away. The guard's neck bore the markings of the chain. They had gone deep into the skin. Bond watched as the guards body slumped over the side of the chair. He landed upon the piece of newspaper. His body fell close to the cell bars. Bond pulled the guard closer to the bars. He was only able to get the body to move with some major force. Bond felt around on the guard's uniform. There was very little in his pockets. It was a tedious job looking for the keys. It was soon apparent that they were not on the guard's body. The guard wore a pair of dog tags. His name was Thompson, a private in the military classes. Bond moved back to sitting on top of the bed. The bars of the cell were made of a high quality metal. There was little he could do to escape. He looked at the hourglass. The sand had greatly dropped. It was at least half of what had been previously in there. Bond watched and waited. He examined the handcuffs. There was no safety catch in case of emergencies. He picked away at the lock. The bed springs were some of the hardest. There was no bounce left in them. Bond stood on the bed and stamped down. He did this in the hope of breaking one of the springs through the cover of the mattress. The springs were moving slowly. He stamped down, again and again. It was working. The stamping continued until the end of the spring poked out the top of the cover. Bond quickly got off the bed and pulled at the spring. He managed to get the spring through the cover fully. Bond positioned the lock of the handcuff with the rusty spring. He took the lock and moved it about on top of the spring. He tried to get them free. If this worked he could set about using the same tactics for the door. Bond continued to move his hand about. The lock was jiggling slowly. After a moment, he heard the lock click. He had done it. He used the same tactic on the other cuff. This one took slightly longer to open. But once it was done. He felt free. Bond grabbed hold of the spring and yanked it off of the mattress. It was completely rusty all the way through. He moved over to the door and started fiddling about with the lock. It was more intricate than the handcuffs. It had been specially designed to keep the prisoners in and others out. As the final few grains of sand fell from the hourglass, Bond was still working upon the lock. He had barely noticed that the time was up. The lock was almost complete.

Bond finally managed to get the door unlocked. He pushed it open fully. The guard's body was blocking the door. He was not a light in body weight, type of person and so had to push quite hard. The door finally opened up with a clang. He left the guards body where it was and headed out through the door. Almost immediately he was grabbed by some more guards. They had been standing either side of the door. Bond was captured again. Twice in one day. Or at least he thought it was still the same day. The following morning must have come round. Bond could feel the coldness of the January mornings. They dragged Bond, kicking and screaming, back through the doors and past the cell. The guards paid no attention to their fallen comrade. The paths to the other side of the cells lead them to a small room. It too was only lit by a single light. A solitary chair was placed in the middle of the room. They grabbed hold of Bond's jacket and almost ripped it off of him. "Hey watch out. That's an original Armani."

"Shut up." The guard smacked him across the face. The pain was unbearable. Bond rubbed his face against his shoulder, as he could not use his hands. The guards threw Bond down onto the chair and tied his hands and legs up. He could not move. The chair was bolted down to the floor. He was barely able to move his arms or legs. The rope used was close to being too tight. Bond had used some of the escapology training to make sure the rope was not tied too tight to his hands. Bond tried moving his legs. They were definitely stuck to the chair. The guards left the room, leaving Bond on his own. They slammed the door shut. It was scary and horrible. The worst could have been expected from what was due to happen. They said they were going to kill him, but in what way? Bond moved his head round the best he could. He managed to point out a few vents in the room. They could have been used to gas him. But there was a thought in Bond mind, which made him think that they wanted to have the pleasure in killing him. The room felt like it was getting colder. Bond struggled with the bounds on his arms and legs. They were not budging much. Bond tried to move the chair from its founding, but it was no good. Like everything else in this place, it had been double bolted down. He could only sit and wait.

They were certainly taking their time. In the moments that passed, major impacts could be made on the progress of the firing. He had to wait. There was the almost immediate sound of boots treading down the corridor. They came up close, paused for a moment and then entered into the room. The door of the room creaked open, banging against the wall. Standing in the doorway was a man. His receding hairline was a give away as to his old age. He was dressed from foot to toe in a set of black overalls. They would mask any possible stains. He had a very bad smell about him. Bond guessed that parts of his attire had not been washed in quite some time. "We're going to have some fun here."

"And you are?"

"Your worst nightmare." Bond did not speak another word. He watched as the man, moved into the room, closing the door behind him. As he walked over to Bond, he put a pair of latex gloves on. He placed his hands onto Bond face and started feeling around. He was pushing in parts of Bond's face, getting a feel of his skull. "Yes, this is will do, such an excellent specimen." He felt around some more, opening Bond's mouth, placing his fingers across his teeth. Bond bit down as hard as he could. The man shouted in pain. "Get off me." Bond let go of his fingers. "How dare you." The man's fingers started to bleed. The man looked down at his hand and then up at Bond. The look upon his face was priceless. He looked absolutely shocked. The man turned as if to walk out of the room. But he turned back round and smacked Bond across the face. This hit was done on the other side of his face. It sort of balanced out the pain that Bond was feeling. "Your going to pay for that." An evil grin came across the man's face. Bond did not batter an eye lid. He kept his composure and would not utter a word. "So, where do you want me to make the first cut?"

"Why don't you untie me, hand me the knife and I will show you exactly where to make that cut." The man laughed.

"Not likely." The man brought out a scalpel from inside his overalls. "Now, I think I'll make the first cut there." The man walked back towards Bond. He held the small knife up.

"Wait a moment." The man was listening to Bond for once.

"What is it?"

"Wouldn't it be better, for you to slit my wrists first? It would drain the blood from me. Make me suffer more."

"That's an idea. But I could do the same slitting any other part of you."

"Wrists are better." Bond's plan earlier, allowed him to have some slack in his wrists. It was difficult to still move them around. But they seemed to be getting looser by the minute. Bond estimated that all they needed to be cut slightly. He would have to time twisting the ropes in order for the scalpel to cut through. Bond watched as the man, as he decided what to do. He puzzled for a moment, whilst the man wandered round the room. Bond grabbed hold of the rope, which had slackened slightly. This had happened by twisting it as much as possible. The scalpel was chucked from hand to hand as he thought. It was clear that the sweat was running down Bond's face. He was very tense. The room was hot. The ventilation had quite clearly not been turned on at any time. The man had made his decision. "I shall take your advice this time. Unlucky for you, it shall be the last piece of advice you ever give. I am going to enjoy watching you bleed to death." He walked behind Bond and bent down. He grabbed one of Bond wrists, bringing the scalpel down to within a few more centimetres. This had to be timed quickly, with lightening precision. Bond could not see the man as he was behind him. But he could feel his movements. Bond waited once more, the tension growing out of control. The man lifted his arm; it still had the scalpel in it. The other arm of the man was still holding Bond's wrist. The arm came striking down. Bond shifted his arm sideways. He was forced to break the man's grip. The scalpel sliced down and through the rope. Bond's arms were free. He turned round the best he could and grabbed hold of the man. Because he was bent down, Bond decided to use the edge of the chair as a weapon. He smashed the man's head into the side of the chair. His forehead began to bleed. The man dropped the scalpel onto the floor. Bond immediately picked it up. He cut at the ropes on his legs as fast as he could. The man was faster; he was up and grabbing away at Bond. The man got Bond into a choke hold. The minimal cutting, Bond had achieved worked well. He kicked out and upwards at the best he could. The ropes moved more and more each time he kicked. The ropes soon came undone. The choking continued, whilst the forehead of the man went on bleeding onto Bond. The man was angry. He was shouting obscenities into the air. Bond tugged at the arm wrapped around his neck. Bond held himself well. He grabbed the arm and pulled it away. Bond got up off the seat. The man followed suit, by falling forwards over the chair. There was very little that the man could now do. The scalpel did have a large blade attached to the end. Bond was going to use this too his advantage. He grabbed hold of the man and stabbed the knife into his back. The man stayed, lying across the chair. He moved in pain, trying to grab out of the knife. The shouts of agony filled the room. But it was in vain. A stream of blood came out of his back. It was too late. He had become another body on the growing death toll. Bond had only suffered a few rope burns to bother of his wrists. The bullet wound from the fight earlier, was not hurting as much now. Bond looked down at the body in disgust. It was enough. He walked over and picked his jacket up off of the floor. He dusted it down, and then put it on.

It was time to take out the big fish, before this plan went ahead. Bond pushed the door open. It was stiff and opened up again with a bang on the back wall. He needed to take it slow in case there were anymore guards. He was only armed with the scalpel. This was not going to serve him well again, if he came upon a group of guards. Bond headed through the doorways, until he found the tunnel network again. It was severely difficult to see now. The lights had been switched off once more. The guards were nowhere to be found. They must have been moved from their posts. A corner sign, noted an opening to the surface just up ahead. He followed the signs until; he peered upon a ladder leading to the outside. It was a new relief to once again see the outside world. For the time of year, there seemed to be no snow here. Bond could see the sea from where he was standing. There were only a few ships, which traversed between the islands. Bond sat down for a moment. He looked out and watched the shimmering of the waves. The world needed to be saved from the evil. It was his job. His name was James Bond, and he was going to put a stop to this evil.

XIX

The manor

From where Bond was sitting, he could see behind him a hill. The hill was banked in some of the most luscious green grass. A variety of coloured flowers lined this bank. The grass ran down beneath Bond and over the edge of the cliff face. Bond was planning his attack. He had no decent weapons upon him, neither was he aware of how long he had. The possibilities that the rocket could fire at moment, struck a nerve within Bond. He lifted himself up onto his feet. After surveying the landscape in front of him, he turned and walked up the hill. This was one of the highest points on the island. From here he could see the lighthouse, on the other side of the island. This was followed up by the ruins. It looked as if the guards were still patrolling around that area. Bond noticed for the first time, the chimneys, protruding out of the side of the island. It looked like a giant cannon, ready to blast into the air. The smoke coming out of the chimneys, was falling, down and floating across the sea. It soon dispersed itself and was never seen again. Bond could see the outline of the manor. It was quite a way away, a long sweeping path made its way down from the top of the hill, circled round the manor and made its way down to the manors front. Bond watched to see what was happening around the manor. A few guards patrolled the outside. He could make out a number of the weapons they were carrying. These did not look like the other guards, Bond had encountered. They were hired to look after Bond and his friends. They looked like they meant business. Bond was going to have to play it cool and be more stealth like. He walked forwards into the long grass. His eyes watched carefully for any type of routine. They all seemed to walk around as if never for a moment, did they bother to check to see what the others had reports of. Since being locked up, everything Bond had with him had disappeared. The radio was also gone. It would have been nice, to get information about what was going on between those guards. It may have given Bond a leading edge as to infiltrating the manor. For now he watched.

The manor was large. It was of a Tudor décor on the outside. A large open roof, possibly for the use of looking out dominated the outline. There was a small well trimmed garden attached to the back of the manor. He could see a lone guard watching at all time what was going on. It would be difficult to infiltrate from the garden as the guard had a clear view of all areas. The bushes and hedgerows covered the walls on both sides. A creeper, possibly ivy masked the wall in a shade of green. Bond looked through the few windows which were at the same level as his eye line. There was very little he could see on this side. A new day had indeed dawned since he had been in the factory. The sun was shining down upon the window's which caused a harsh reflection back Bond's eyes. A decision needed to be made soon and it needed to be a good one. With no weapons, this infiltration was going to be the hardest, Bond had ever attempted. Bond moved further down the other side of the hill, looking for the most ideal way in. The garden was going to have to be the way in. With only the one guard it was too Bond, the safest way in. Bond planned a route, which would hide him well. He headed down to the bottom of the hill. He was flat against the back of the wall. The ivy started to cover him. The guards patrolling around the entire house were a guess as to where they currently were. Bond grabbed hold of the ivy, hoping it would hold his weight. It did, but barely. Bond grabbed more ivy and pulled. He was making his way up the wall slowly. Pieces of ivy snapped off in Bond hands. At points there was no ivy on the wall. In this case, Bond had to throw his body upwards to grab at the next part of ivy. He finally got himself up to the top of the wall. Bond had climbed the twenty foot of wall. The top was flat. The bushes on the other side would hopefully provide him some cover. Bond could see the guard. They were walking at the other side of the garden. Their back was faced away from him. Bond could see the guard up close now. They were different to the other type of guards. These were walking around with machine guns. Their uniforms were covered in more accolades. The weapons they carried were more deadly than the other guards. The fall too the back of the bushes was the same distance as when he was climbing up. Bond held onto the wall as he dangled over the side. He looked down to see how far he had left to fall. Bond thought he could make it. He dropped himself down behind the bush. He landed with somewhat of a thud. The soft soil below him, took up much of the sound and impact. But Bond could see that the guard had been made aware of the sound. He was marching over to the hedge. He gave a look around. Bond walked along for a moment, before he hid behind the branches of another bush. The guard shoved his head into the bush and looked around. He could not see Bond anywhere, but there did appear to be a large set of footprints embedded into the soil. The guard was intrigued. He walked fully into the bush, following the footprints, up towards Bond. He was getting closer by the second. Bond jumped out of the bush and over towards the manor. The guard saw Bond through the bush and followed. He held up his gun and started firing a long burst towards him. Bond jumped up and grabbed hold of a tree branch. He pulled himself upwards as fast as he could. The bullets embedded themselves into the trees bark. Bond watched as the guard came under the tree. He was still holding his gun upwards towards Bond. Bond jumped landing on top of the guard. The guard was strong; he pushed Bond off of him. There was a tussle across the garden. The guard's gun came off and stayed where it landed. Bond grabbed at the guards belt. He tossed the guard over his head. So that he landed upon his back Bond turned over and stood up. The guards, pistol was in its holster. Bond took hold of this gun, and pointed it down at the guard. He looked angrily over at Bond. The guard turned over quickly and grabbed hold of Bond's legs. He pulled hard, knocking Bond over. Bond fired a shot, it went nowhere but up into the air. The other guards would probably have bee alerted. Bond held the gun in his hand. The guard shouted something over at Bond. They got separated and Bond stood back up. He took a shot at the guard. It passed through the side of his head. The guard stayed on the ground. The other guards would be on these way, he could hear them shouting back. Bond was exhausted, but there was one last thing to do. He pulled at the guard's body and placed it up against the tree. He took the machine gun and put it in the guard's hands. Bond took the pistol and the ammunition from the dead guard. It was shocking to see the overall scene. Bond hid himself back up the tree. The foliage was enough to make him stealth like. The beginning of this infiltration had not gone unnoticed, though hopefully the guard's death would quickly be passed off as a suicide. Bond watched and waited as the fellow guards surrounded the body. They stared down at the corpse, expecting it to come back to life. "This looks suspicious" said a guard

"Extremely"

"The bullet hole is a different size to that of the bullets used in this gun. Some else did this."

"It could be the boss?" said one of the guards. "He has been on edge lately."

"True. This one served little purpose anyway. I want you all to do a final sweep of the grounds. Make sure all routes are cleared. Then I want you." He pointed at another guard. "You're to guard this area. I want a full lock down on everyone entering and leaving the manor. Pass on the message to those in the tunnels." They all moved away, back out of the gardens. One guard stayed behind and started doing a sweep of the bushes. Bond lowered himself down to the ground. He moved quietly over to the window. It had been left ajar. He opened it as carefully as he could, paying attention to not alert the guards. He climbed in, and found himself in a large hall.

The halls were covered in articles and various pieces of armoury from the different ages. Bond could see suits of armour, surrounded by weapons, such as swords and shields Bond treaded carefully. Burnside was in this place somewhere. It was now a case of finding the right room. The manor was divided up into many rooms upon two floors. Bond kept himself well hidden as he moved about. Occasionally, he would see people walking about. These too varied in being members of staff or guards on patrol. This manor was kept very tight when it came to security. Bond moved forwards up the hall, until he came upon a banqueting room. The table running down the middle was polished to a high finish. It would have been a shame for someone to scratch such a beautiful surface. Bond could see maids, working upon setting the table ready, possibly for a meal. There was a sign that this was for Bond and the rest of the people he had gone to greet. Bond could make out that there were at least, three more people who had turned up. The total ran to seven. Bond had not seen Mrs. Emerald disembark from the helicopter. He stayed hidden on one corner of the room. The maids had not seen him enter. He smartened himself up, adjusting both his tie and jacket so that he looked at least presentable. He remembered not too keep his gun out, hiding it instead in the inside pocket of his jacket. Bond walked casually forwards passed the maids and out through the other door. He had gotten away with it. None of the maids had looked over at him. Not for a second. He was now standing in another hall. This one was decorated in the same décor as the previous. A guard was walking up the corridor to Bond's right. Bond heard the boots treading up the carpet and so turned to his left. He walked with a hastened pace, up the corridor and into a random room. He found himself standing within the kitchen. Of course, the kitchen was going to be the room over. It was the closest room to the dining hall. Bond checked that the staff was working busily. He walked in and out of the staff. None of them seemed to be aware of his presence. Maybe it was the way he was dressed. Or maybe it was the swaggering appearance he was giving off in the room. Bond set about blending in. He grabbed hold of some plates, one of the chefs, pushed a large knife into his hand. "Go put those on the table. The maids will take over setting them all out. He was ushered out of the room, through the same door. The guard was now at the same level to Bond. He tried to hide himself behind the plates, whilst the guard walked past. The guard was more concerned with looking straight ahead. Bond carried the plates into the dining hall. He placed the plates onto the table and stood away. The gun was moving, hard upon, Bond's chest. He moved the gun down to his side. The maids worked furiously to get everything ready. Bond walked over to the window, which had been left open and looked out. He could see some of the landmarks on the island. The guards were still patrolling, but what looked like in heavier numbers. Bond turned and looked back into the room. The maids finished off laying the table. A number of bells, which were attached to the wall, began to ring. Bond was stunned; the members of staff all hurried and stood to one side. Bond joined them. They all stood and watched as Burnside and his guests walked into the room. They eyed up the exquisite look of the preparations taken. "I see you're all looking forward to this meal. I ask you to please thank my staff for their work." The guests all thanked the staff as one. All the members of staff either bowed or curtsied in return. Once they all stood back, up, they filed out. Only a few servants stayed behind. Bond stayed behind with them. He watched as Burnside and the guests all sat down at their relevant places. He listened in at what was being said. The chef's servants were moving in and out of the room, bringing in the different meals. "So, the rocket is ready to go?" said Burnside

"Yes. All we need now is for your word to let us fire it."

"You will get that is due time. For now we shall eat. I have word that James Bond is being tortured well. He must be keeping strong; the torturer still has not come back to me."

"Donato, I have a question." Mr. Dwarf stopped eating and placed the cutlery onto his plate. "As your treasurer. We have taken spent a huge amount of money, investing in this plan. When do you expect us to see a return? Our finances are low at the moment. The competition is making a huge gain above us. Do you have a contingency plan?" Burnside looked fairly annoyed.

"I can assure all of you, that your return on your investments will yield a return very soon. Operation D.O.V.E is fully going ahead. The plan is almost foolproof. Please have faith in me and this company. I promise to get you a return on your money in any way shape or form. I will admit, I do not have a contingency plan. But please, we have spent so much money, invested so many hours into this plan. It is almost certainly going to work." Some of the guests did not seem assured. A small oriental man was staring over at Burnside. "You shall deliver our return, or I shall have you killed. You are on very thin wire with me." To Bond it looked as if Burnside was failing. Burnside laughed. He leaned over to talk into Dwarfs ear. Dwarf nodded enthusiastically. He stood up and walked away from the table. The door was opened and closed as Dwarf left the room. "People, please. All is going to go well. Win or lose, I will deliver. To make you all at ease I have asked Mr. Dwarf to deposit ten percent of everyone's investment, back into your bank accounts. He has gone to carry out such action now. Now if you will all please enjoy the rest of your meal. I will be happy to answer anyone else's questions." The oriental man's expression changed back as Burnside had explained this new deal.

"What about this man Bond? You said he was being tortured, but you had heard nothing else. What if he puts a stop to this plan?"

"Impossible, it has a failsafe system. It cannot be stopped once it is launched." Bond thought otherwise. The meal was dragging on. Bond had never had to stand still for so long.

Finally the last meal arrived. They had been dining on such a fine cuisine. A roast duck had been served as the main meal whereas a choice of starter had greatly been favoured in a way of tomato soup. The dessert came out being a chocolate mousse. Burnside looked around whilst chewing another spoonful. Bond watched Burnside's eyesight. He tried not to make himself stand out too much. Bond moved his hand into his jacket. He could feel the gun by his side. Burnside looked back at his guests. Strangely, no one on the table, or in the room, said another word. The dessert dishes were ferried away. Mr, Dwarf had returned earlier. He had a smile upon his face. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please follow me into the briefing room. I shall talk to you about the next few stages, and then, you are all welcome to watch as the rocket is fired."

"Great." thought Bond. He could not guarantee when the rocket was exactly going to be fired, but he knew he had some time left. Burnside and the guests stood up and walked out of the room. As soon as they had left, Bond moved out of the room. He was being out of character as a servant. Bond kept a large distance between him and the guests. But he was keeping a shadow on where they might be heading. Through the halls they went, until they eventually walked up the stairs and into a large room. The guards were tricky to get around. Every now and again another one would some round the corner. Bond had to hide whilst they got out of the way. Bond was losing some distance with every stop he made. Bond could not get into the meeting room, so he hid outside. The ventilation into the room was placed behind a large plant pot. He could hear through this exactly what was going on in the room. The voices were muffled greatly. But the most important piece of information was that Burnside was heading over to his control room. The guests were going to be watching from the meeting room. Bond waited as Burnside left the room. He was well hidden. Burnside walked passed him, without noticing his figure lying there. He quickly stood up and followed behind him. Burnside went into his control room, closing the doors behind him. Bond waited, it was time. He kicked open the door. His gun held out in front of him. "I have you now Burnside. There's no chance escaping now." Another one of Burnside's evil laughs echoed throughout the room.

"I thought I saw you at dinner. You looked ridiculous stood there like one of the queen's guards. You do not know how slow you are. The dOxfordation is only a button away."

"I can put a stop to that." With his gun out, Burnside was defenceless. Bond, took a shot at the control panel. A number of sparks burst out. "There, it's at an end, now to put an end to you."

"I don't think so. This is not the only way. Its failsafe will kick in. But yes, for now, it is only against me and you." The two men circled round the room. Bond seemed to have the upper hand. Burnside was showing no signs of being scared. They moved about, trying to stare each other down. Burnside was now level with his desk. With one move he leant over and grabbed out a gun. Bond fired a shot. It went into the woodwork splintering the oak. There was little he could do, they were even. "Poor shot. You should have aimed at me and not trying to be all fancy with that gun. Anyway, I have a deal for you. I spoke earlier of something I had of your which you love. I guess you have not worked it out. Well…" Burnside moved behind his desk. "Let me introduce to you the lovely Miss Valentine." Bond was shocked. She was brought into the room, by a guard. He had hold of her arms, pushing her in with force. The guard holding her, held a gun in his hands. He held the gun to her head. They could fire at any moment. "I'm sorry Duncan" she sobbed.

"Don't worry" he said. "I'll save you."

"Will you now." Burnside was sat down behind his desk. "You have two choices Mr. Bond. You can save her? Or chase after me and possibly save the world. It's your decision Bond. But I suggest you make it fast. You've fifteen minutes left." Burnside pressed upon button under his desk. The bookcase to his right opened up to reveal a set of stairs. Burnside began running down the stone steps. Bond fired a few shots towards the gap revealed in the wall, missing Burnside within a few centimetres. Bond turned round to face Lovely. She meant so much to him; he did not want her to die. But millions could die as a result of not stopping Burnside. He looked down at his gun; he had one bullet left in his gun. Bond weighed up the costs. Lovely looked scared that she might die. "Sorry Lovely. I have to save the world." She looked up at him.

"I know." The tears were streaming down her face. The guard had a giant grin plastered across his face. He was enjoying this.

"You can just remember that you helped to complete the job." Bond turned to walk out of the room. "Before you're executed, can I ask you to do one thing for me?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Just turn your head." He shouted the words so that she heard him well. She immediately turned her head, so that her face was now facing the guard's gun barrel. She closed her eyes, as Bond fired the last shot. It hit the guard in the head. The blood came pouring out of the newly formed third eye. His grip loosened up on Lovely, to the point that she could run over to Bond. He grabbed hold of her, before she collapsed to the ground. Bond helped to lower her down onto the floor. She was notably scared. She was shaking with fear. Her clothes had been ripped in places. Bond noticed that she looked very pale. He was growing in anger. He reloaded the gun in his hand. He made sure that the rest of the ammunition he had was not going to in any way. He wanted to be able to get to it as fast as it was needed. "George, don't worry. Take this." He handed the guards gun over her." Wait here. I have to go save the world."

"But I am scared."

"You can do it. If anyone comes in just shoot them, friend or foe. Your safety is more important. I will come back here when I complete the job. You will be safe here."

"You go then. Go save the world for all of us. But be careful. I don't want to lose you. Remember to judge each of the situations you get into. If you don't there could be problems you did not see happening."

"I did not foresee a lot of what has happened to me. I have survived a lot of accidents so far. The plane crash was just the beginning. But I will catch up with you when I get back. Right now, I need to put a final end to these problems."

"Go on then, go out and be the hero you are."

"Thank you." He kissed Lovely on the lips, and stood back up. He walked out of the room and down the stone steps. The path downwards, was long. It descended lower down into the ground. Bond held his gun out at all times. Making sure the path was safe. There appeared to be a door at the bottom. Bond opened this up, to find a guard staring at him. He shot him with no remorse. Bond was on another level of anger. Justice is going to be served and Bond was going to deal it. He stormed off down the tunnel. It was life or death.

XX

Hunting Burnside

"Where are you!" he shouted. His voice echoed throughout the tunnels. There was no reply. The sweat ran down Bond's face. He paused only for a moment, to look around. He felt like nothing could stop him now. The world was in danger. Bond looked around again. There was no sign of Burnside. Was he too late to save the world? Had Burnside managed to get away from him? Bond was not going to give up hope yet. He ran down some more tunnels. He had no clue as to where he might be heading. The maze of metal surfaces looked all the same. In the darkness Bond could see nothing. It was surprising, some say even miraculous that some hope for Bond was thrust his way. Burnside was well known for being escorted everywhere, and apparently, he had some difficulty getting around on his own. The lights in all of the tunnels suddenly switched on. Burnside obviously needed some help. Now the lights on their own would not provide Burnside with the help that he needed, but it would, however give Bond the help that he needed. Bond's eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the tunnels network. He looked around to see if he could see Burnside anywhere. It was hopeless. Bond felt like throwing his gun down onto the ground and giving up. He looked down to check to see if the gun was still loaded, that's when he saw something on the floor. It was red in colour and looked very much like a liquid. It was in drips along the tunnel. It looked like blood. What if Bond had shot Burnside? Either when he hit the table, or in when he was heading down the steps. It was a chance. Bond worked out which way he was heading, by the tail of the blood. It was dripping whilst he was running. Bond set off on the trail of Burnside. He was not going to get that far ahead. It was all or nothing now. Bond ran as fast as he could. His wounds had given him a limp. They too would need to be seen too when he returned home. The drips of blood were growing in size. This meant that Burnside was slowing down. Bond needed to push on further. He needed to catch up to Burnside and deliver the justice.

However fast Bond was moving, Burnside seemed to be staying ahead. The blood drips were indeed getting closer together. But Bond seemed like he was never getting any closer to Burnside. The tunnels weaved in and out and around corners. He chased on as fast as he could. Eventually the tunnels ended. A pool of blood was at the base of a door. Bond pushed his way through, angrier than ever. He was back in the factories. The production had been fixed. He was watching as the scientists moved back and forth carrying out their work. It had been repaired so quickly. There were still a few remnants of the spillage still lying in some of the cracks in the floor. The control room had not been fixed. It was irreparable. Bond looked and saw the blood carrying on along the floor. They disappeared between the machines. He followed after them and could not care if anyone noticed him moving about. This was business. A siren suddenly burst out into life. This was followed by a series of red lights flashing away. Bond had seen this happened before. The scientists gathered round a large screen, which by now had descended down from the ceiling. Bond hid behind a machine and watched as Burnsides face appeared on the screen. He was definitely in the room. He could make out the mixing machine in the background. He was somehow projecting himself by the use of a camera, possibly in his wristwatch. It was a good quality picture, but had a few flaws when it came to sound. Bond did not waste time. He headed through the entanglements of the tubes to get to Burnside. Meanwhile Burnside was giving a final briefing to the whole island. "I bid you a final good day. For tomorrow we shall be united as one. The production is well underway, with the most minor of setbacks occurring yesterday. The rocket is primed to fire; I am personally on my way over to the launch pad now to give my approval. We shall all be a much happier, more prosperous company. Work together, and together we shall overcome the enemy." There was a great roar of applause from the scientists. He was almost over at the mixing machine. The tubes were getting in his way, but many could be simply climbed over. Bond picked up the final tubing, to find Burnside standing with his back turned. Bond fired a shot towards him. The bullet hit Burnside in the shoulder. "DAMN!" he shouted. Burnside was nimble. He was able to run even after being shot…twice. Bond continued the chase. He found that Burnside had headed onto another part of the factory. Bond came upon the final part of the production line, the lift was still in motion. Burnside was nowhere to be seen. He could not have disappeared so fast like that. "Goodbye Bond." He looked up and found Burnside was standing in the lift going up. Bond did likewise. Substituting the next chemical loads for him.

The lift rose up, through the ceiling in the factory and up into the next room. It was huge. Another warehouse, this time filled with conveyer belts taking the chemicals to different holdings. Bond noticed the trail of blood again and jumped off the conveyer belt at an ideal opportunity. He was running between the boxes, when a shot appeared over his shoulder. Bond ducked low between the crates. He was being shot at. Burnside was only slightly up ahead. Bond continued forwards hesitantly. Another shot rang out just to the left of Bond. He peered out and fired a shot back. There appeared to be a number of guards. Those from outside who were also working in this area. They had spotted Bond coming and so started to wage war against him getting any further. Bond fired another shot towards the group of guards. One fell to the ground. Bond moved forwards, diving to the next box. He let rip with a volley of bullets. The numbers totalled somewhere along the lines of five more bullets. He pulled the trigger until his gun was out of ammunition. He performed one of the quickest reloads he had ever done. The guards had dispersed themselves around the warehouse. They knew where Bond was, and so were trying to flush him out with a pincer move. Bond watched as the guard coming straight at him fired a shot. Bond dodged out of the way, moving himself close to the metal crates. He turned and fired another shot at the now lone guard. It penetrated into him within his chest. The guard clutched at the wound. It must have burnt tremendously. Bond moved with stealth towards the guard. He took the guard on in hand to hand combat. The guard was somewhat powerless. Bond took hold of the guard's knife and plunged it into his back .The guard fell silent. He was gone. Using the guard's body as a makeshift shield, Bond walked on forwards, following the lines of blood. Bond dropped the body, once he was in the clear. He ran forwards and found another door. It was large and metallic. There was a wheel in the middle of the door. He grabbed hold of the handle and turned it furiously. It moved with much ease. Bond pulled the door open and walked through. The blood was still dripping thick and fast. Bond thought that Burnside must have been feeling weak by now. It was no use. Burnside would have made quite a way ahead of Bond in distance. The blood drips lead Bond through a hallway, possibly under another one of the landmarks. He eventually came upon the launch pad.

Above him were the tubes, pumping the chemicals into the room. The whole room was similar in its cylindrical shape. The wires leading from the rocket, which dominated the entire room, were all over the place. The rocket itself bore no markings. Instead, it was a large metallic item with the typical fins and thrusters beneath. Bond could see the workers moving about below him. They were preparing the rockets for its final countdown. Bond noticed Burnside, eventually. He was standing within the confines of a control room. It overlooked the whole process. Bond could see him talking to a number of people. He did not recognise any of the faces. Bond walked along the walkway. The rocket was typical in shape. High up with a tapered end, looking amazing. It was sure to cause much destruction. Burnside's voice boomed over the whole room, from a loudspeaker. "Commencement of all final preparations, countdown to begin in five minutes."

Bond started to run down towards the control room. It was behind a locked door. Bond fired a shot into the lock. It was sealed shut. The only way to get in would be to open it from the inside. Bond tried for a moment to open the door up, ever the while knowing that the countdown was about to begin. It was time for plan B.

Bond jumped over the railings and landed on a vent shaft. It was faced at an angle, away from the rocket. The surface felt hot. Bond slid down its surface, down to the work floor. He saw the steam coming out of the rocket. The countdown had begun. He had less than four and a half minutes to go before the rocket would launch. He would have too try his hardest. There was a way to stop the rocket from down, here. But it would have to be done carefully and with patience. If he could eliminate the original flight plans from the rockets database, he should be able to make it change course. Bond's qualifications in maths were coming back into practice. He made his was over to the rocket. There had to be an opening somewhere. He ran round the enormous object. It was a long distance round. Burnside had seen him down there and ordered a number of guards to eliminate the threat. Bond continued to run round, eventually spying upon a hatch. The hatch was bolted down. He did not have time to open it properly. Bond smacked the butt of his gun into the hatch. It was beginning to dent inwards from the middle. He continued to do so until, a guard came running round the rocket. Bond fired a shot, hitting the guard square on in the face. He fell onto the floor, Bond continued hitting the hatch. The corners were folding in on themselves. This was going well. He continued hitting until another guard arrived. This time, Bond tackled him to the ground. The guard struggled to get Bond off of him. Bond picked up the guards head and smacked it into the side of the rocket. The guard was knocked unconscious. He had an idea. Bond picked up the guard and smacked the guards head into the hatch. With one hit the door to the hatch came off. Bond looked around inside, it was very meticulous. The circuit boards inside the rocket were all over the place. Bond could just make out what each one was connected too. He fiddled around with some of the circuitry to make the changes. The trajectory of the rocket was controlled by a circuit board connected to the navigation system. He found this, near the back of the motherboard. He noticed that some of the wires were connected to the system. Bond pulled the wires out, and removed the circuit board. He smashed it upon the floor. He had done it. The rocket was stopped. The countdown seemed to continue though. It was all a game of sit and wait. There was a large booming sound coming from ahead. Bond looked up to see the roof splitting into two. The rocket was still going to be fired. The sound continued until the roof was fully open.

Burnside watched out of the control room window. He seemed to shout something. Bond was laughing. He was also running to safety. He climbed up the metal work and back over the railings. The rockets thrusters primed themselves for ignition. Bond jumped into an adjacent room. The rocket blasted into life. It soared upwards through the space in the roof. Had Bond managed to save the world? Only time would tell. Once the rocket was airborne, Bond came out from the room. The roof stayed open and a large glowing blip in the sky, gave Bond the sign that the rocket was on its way to its new destination. He looked over towards the control room; Burnside was missing, and had managed to get away. Bond wanted to chase after him, but it may have been to no use. Bond watched as the blip moved across the sky. It finally disappeared out of Bond's sight. He turned and was face to face with Burnside. "Goodbye." This was the only word. Bond heard before Burnside let rip with a shot to Bond's chest. He grabbed hold of the wound. It was no the feeling of a bullet. He looked down. Protruding out of his chest was a tranquilliser dart. Bond's sight fell into darkness. He collapsed to the ground with Burnside standing over him.

XXI

Awakening

It was dark again. The air was damp with a considerable amount of moisture. It was hard to breath. The pain in his chest was great. He struggled to get his eyes to adjust to the light. There was little he could see even when they had finally adjusted. Bond was in a room, possibly left on his own. Yes, he was on his own. There were no objects here. He was not bound to anything, though what was the point. His body felt numb throughout. He tried speaking a few words, only managing to give out a muffled sound. Bond thought for a moment about what was going on. He was alone in a room, no objects around him and he felt numb. He was incredibly hungry. He had not eaten since hiding out in the lighthouse. That was a very small meal. The last thing he remembered was Burnside shooting him, and the rocket. What happened about the rocket? Is it safe? Is everyone safe? He could not tell. The feeling in his arms eventually came back. His legs soon followed. Bond stood up and walked around the room. This felt like solitary confinement. Bond sat back down facing, what he had earlier felt to be the door. He put his head into his hands and rubbed at his head.

The stomping of boots came from outside the door. A slit of light quickly entered the room. A pair of large eyes looked through. Bond was shown within the light. "Stand up!" Bond did so; he wobbled from side to side for a moment, until he gained his balance. "Turn round!" the voice said. He did this too. The door was unlocked. Bond still felt awful, not up to the task of fighting back he stood still. The person, possibly a guard walked into the room. They grabbed hold of Bond and dragged him out of the room. The light blinded Bond profusely. He was pushed along the hallways until they came to another door. It was an elegant door with many pieces of what looked like ivory placed within. The guard opened up the door and Bond was pushed inside. There was a long desk in front of him. A single chair was left standing in front of the desk and one behind. Bond was put on the chair and had his hands tied to the back. He was a prisoner again. He looked a mess. Cuts and bruises lined his face. He was a sight for sore eyes. He looked around the room. It was difficult to see properly. It was decked out in some of the most expensive items Bond had ever seen. The window behind the desk, showed the island. He was still there. A man, dressed in some of the most elegant clothing entered the room. He walked behind the desk, similar to M and sat down. "I guess you're wondering why you're not dead." Bond tried speaking again.

"Not really. I'm guessing the rocket did not meet its target."

"Correct, the rocket landed side on in the English Channel. The British Government has taken it onto the land and is now investigating. Our plan has gone to the dogs."

"Good. Now where is Burnside I want to finish him off."

"You need not worry about that my good man. We have carried out such a task for you. A loss of a hundred and fifty million pounds is not going to be let off lightly." Bond was pleased. Burnside had been given his just desserts. "No Mr. Bond you are still here because we are planning to strike a deal with your government. I am sure they will want one of their spies brought back to them. We estimate your life is somewhere in the region of…say a hundred and fifty million. In that way, we will cover our losses and they get their spy back."

"They will never pay. It's funding terrorism."

"Indeed it is. Now if you are not willing to negotiate, I will have you killed, courteously committed by my good friend Mr. Coltrane. He has been working on a new form of torture. This one you can't escape from."

"I will never help you."

"So is it Mr. Bond, you have made your decision. Now face your death." Bond tried to focus his sight at the man behind the desk. They were not sitting still enough for him to properly see. His eyes moved from side to side. He felt as though he had been drugged. "What if he had been drugged?" he thought. "These people are dealing with chemical no one knows about." He once again went back to see who was sat in front of him. There was a wish to escape the situation, but this was impossible to do in his current circumstances.

"You're a very lucky man Mr. Bond. Now many people could have gotten this far, especially without some help. But for you now, the bells finally toll for thee. As soon as we find your womanfriend, we will be rid of the both of you once and for all." Bond felt angry. Angrier than he had ever been before. He tried to rip his hands out from behind his back. It was proving to be of no use. He was trapped here. "Good too see your still in the fighting mood." With that, the figure lurched forwards and smacked Bond across the side of the head. Now, not only were his eyes hurting but his whole head felt as though it was somewhere else. Somewhere it did not want to be. "You're a difficult character to deal with Mr. Bond, and I shall be pleased when I am finally rid of you. I must leave you now for other business I need to tend too." With that the figure stood up. They walked towards Bond. Bumbling from Bond's lips came all but a few words. Nonsense spewed out into the open. The man in the large chair nodded. The guard took Bond off of the chair. The ropes holding Bond down snapped with the guards force. He was taken out of the room and pushed back down the hallway. They went past the cell which Bond had been prisoner in. They seemed to be in a new part of the island. In a place Bond had not seen before. The guard pushed Bond through the door at the end. Mr. Coltrane was standing with his back to Bond. He merely gave a wave, for the Guard to place him on the bed. Bond tried to fight his way out, but it was a feeble attempt. The guard strapped Bond to the bed. He could not escape. The straps had been pulled on tight. He watched as the guard left the room. "Mr. Bond we meet once more."

"Yes we do."

"Now" Coltrane walked over to the bed, with a needle. "This syringe contains our own mix of toxic chemicals. It will stop you in your tracks, leading up to a slow and painful death. This is torture at its most gruesome Mr. Bond. You will not survive. I will first test this out to you, by adding some to your skin. You will feel the burn." Coltrane walked back over to the table. He picked up what looked like a beaker, of red liquid. He walked over to Bond, showing him the beaker. "Yes, you may have guessed it. This is the chemical you tried to stop. The chemical XCELL will kill you slowly." Coltrane tipped the beaker slightly. The liquid made its way over to the lip. Coltrane had a smile upon his face. "This as you know, is the same formula that we used in the rocket. It is deadly. You can smell it, correct Mr. Bond?" He could. It reeked like the smell of something acid like. "Here we go." Coltrane tipped the beaker all the way. Bond's arm flinched as the liquid fell onto his arm. It merely, rolled down the side causing no harm at all. "What's going on? Why is it not working?" Bond still had his eyes closed. The liquid felt cold. It ran down onto the bed, eventually seeping into the covers. Bond waited for the pain to begin. Still nothing happened. He opened one eye. Coltrane had stormed out of the room, leaving Bond to be strapped to the bed. Barely a moment passed when a shot rang out through the hallway outside. There was the sound of running feet. Lovely came running into the room. She ran up to Bond, holding a gun in her hands. "We have to get out of here quick." She fumbled with the straps.

"Why what has happened?"

"I've set a bomb in the factories; the whole island is going to go up in flames."

"Quick, get me out of here."

"I'm trying as fast as I can." Bond struggled to help her release him from the bed. They were eventually able to get Bond free. Bond picked up the syringe. He thought they might need it later.

"How are we supposed to get off the island? My way, is lying at the bottom of the sea."

"Don't worry. I have a boat harboured by the docks." The two ran out of the room, past Coltrane's body and down the hall. The room with the ivory covered doors was empty. The doors had been left open. The chair had been swivelled round, so that it faced the window. Bond and Lovely ran through the hallways and down the stairs. They were still in the manor. Bond had been held captive on the first floor in another part that he did not know of. They ran to the front door. It was locked tight. They turned and saw one of the windows open down the hall. They ran with all the speed they could muster. Bond's legs had come back into life fully. It was only occasionally that they felt weird and he started to wobble.

A huge guard at least seven feet appeared from round the corner. He was holding a machine gun of huge proportions. He fired at the two of them. Lovely fired back, hitting him a few times on the body. He was like a machine, never ending and never stopping. He continued to fire, eventually blasting out a number of windows. Lovely threw Bond the gun. There were a few bullets left. "Take it. You're a better aim than I am. Bond fired a superb shot. It was equal to that of a sniper. He managed to shoot the guard in both legs and one in the neck. The guard, moved about in pain, for a moment before looking up to see them gone. Bond and Lovely, made their way across the grass and back up the hill. The tunnel exit, which Bond had come out of earlier, was still left open. "It is just down here." Bond followed Lovely. She knew exactly where to go. The guards seemed to have disappeared from the top of the island, possibly trying to make good their escape. There were no sets of stairs, leading down to the beach on this side of the island. They stayed close to the cliff edge. It was a long way down from the top of here. They could see an army of guards running up the hill towards them. They needed to think fast. Bond noticed a deep pool of water just below the lip of the cliff. They were going to have o jump. Bond did not want to bring fear into Lovely. He merely grabbed hold of here and dragged her off the cliffs edge with him. They both fell at an accelerated rate. They hit the water. The screams coming from Lovely mouth had suddenly stopped. The current separated them from each other. This was not a good sign. Bond fumbled around to see if he could make out Lovely in the water. She seemed to have gone completely. The salt was getting to Bond eyes. He swam upwards towards the surface. Breakings with a large breathe in. Lovely body was floating nearby. Bond grabbed hold of her and swam them both underneath the cliff. The guards had in the meanwhile. Gotten to the top of the hill and were now scanning the sea with their guns pointed at the water. Bond held their bodies close to the cliff edge. He looked down at Lovely, he did not want this too happen but it was the only way. He slapped her hard across the face. She coughed up a large amount of sea water. "That tasted disgusting." She said. Bond let go of her body. She floated where she was. Bond pointed upwards to signal that there might be guards watching. Lovely led the way, edging against the cliff face, towards the beach it was just around the corner. They were sure to make it. It was a welcome site. The beach had the golden sands of a tropical island. He could see a stack of broken wood lying on the beach. "That is it there" she said. She raced over to the wood, throwing it over her shoulder. The boat was small but would carry two people. The motor on the back was not impressive, but it might as well do the job. The two of them, pushed the boat out into the sea, so that it was buoyant in the water. Lovely climbed in first and started the motor. Bond climbed up and fell into the boat, rolling against the double seat laid across the boats hull. She revved up the motor and turned the boat round. It burst across the waves and made its way out into the sea. "How long until the bomb goes off?" he enquired.

"In about ten minutes. We should be at least two miles away by then." Neither said a word for the next few minutes. It was good to be off the island and on the way home. He closed his eyes once more, dreaming of being back in Henley. His head was full of thoughts. All of which seemed confusing to Bond. Lovely woke him up in time. "Look." She pointed at the island. There was a mighty roar as the top exploded into the air. Pieces of metal flew miles into the sky. A huge mushroom cloud dominated the skyline. Bond could see pieces of building, grass and stonework all flying through the air. They were landing at the massive rate, constantly coming close to smacking into their boat. It was not over yet. Bond could see it coming. Lovely was too busy looking into the sky. "Hold on." He shouted. There was a large wave coming through the water. They both grabbed hold of the boat. It was raised high into the water, smacking down onto the other side. The boat came close to capsizing. The debris was still raining down in huge chunks. They could see members of the lifeguard, powering over in their boats. They were shouting through loudspeakers towards the island. Bond and Lovely both raised their arms in the hope of getting help.

They both looked worse for wear, when the coastguard turned up. Their boat had been picked up and they were both now lying on their backs in the coastguard's boat. "You're both very lucky to have survived something like that."

"Yes, we just hope to get back to the mainland."

"Well, don't worry; we shall have you back soon." The coastguard handed Bond and Lovely a flask of soup. They shared it out and took a long sip each. It was refreshing to eat something after all this time. One of the coastguards, were looking after their wounds. They were soon left alone whilst the coast guards continued to look for some other survivors. They so far found nothing. The debris was floating past them in a large rate. Pieces were still at this point landing in the waters, but not in huge quantities. Bond had a few questions for Lovely. She was lying on her side, looking up to the boat captain's cabin. "Lovely, before You say anything, I just want to apologise for my actions over Christmas. It was not fair upon you. I love you"

"I love you too Duncan." They both shared a kiss before getting back down to business. "So fill me in on what happened when I left you in Burnside's office." She turned over to face Bond.

"Well, you left me and I hid under the desk. I waited there for someone, anyone to come into the room. The gun you gave me proved to be useful resource. Because ten minutes later a tall set of men walked into the room and start shouting. They all looked foreign to me. They were all carrying guns with them. I was scared, so scared in fact, that I could not pull the trigger. They searched around the room and eventually found me hiding under the desk. They dragged me about. One of them had an evil grin on his face, as if he was going to do something sinister. I was taken to one of the cells. In fact it was the same one you ended up in. I heard the rocket go off. It must have been nearby, because the whole cell moved violently. The lock on the door was shook out of place. It meant the door was opened. I immediately took the opportunity and walked out the door. The guard, meant to be looking over me was lying on the floor. I took his gun and killed him. I don't know why I did that. I have never killed someone before. It was scared for my life. Bond? Am I going to hell?" He could see that she was shaking. It was visible to see.

"Don't worry. You did it to save our own life. You will be fine."

"Ok. So I took the gun and walked out of the cells. I knew you were meeting me in the office. So I walked over back that way. It was when I found you had not arrived. That I got scared. You should have been there. So I came up with a plan. I would go out and find you. I looked everywhere. I spent my time walking around the manor. You were nowhere. Then I saw Coltrane running out of the room. He looked like something was up, just like he had discovered something that was going to stop him. I shot him. Someone who tries to kill my friend deserves to die. You know the rest."

"As long as you are safe." He put his hand around Lovely, pulling her close to him. He kissed her on her lips. "Thank you for saving me." They both smiled.

"Looks like were going to head back now. No more survivors." The coast guard turned the boat round and headed on back towards the Devonshire coat. They would be home soon.

XXII

Saving Britain the trouble

The docks were a welcoming sight for everyone. The cloud of smoke still stood over the area of sea in which Kraken once stood. Bond looked back and watched the clouds swirl themselves round. Bond helped Lovely onto the dock. He carried a blanket with him, draped over his shoulders. The coastguards had done a good job seeing to his wounds. He had been told the bruises would soon be healed up. Just to give them a few days, possibly a week and they should be all healed up. The top of the dock was a happy sight indeed. There wasn't much happening on the waters. The coastguards, were planning on heading back out to see if there was anything new. Though for Bond and Lovely they were heading home. A long Mercedes turned up at the edge of the dock. A chauffer stepped out of the car and walked round to the rear passenger door. He opened it up. "Mr. Bond, Miss Valentine, please step this way. Bond gave a smile and walked over to the car. They both stepped in. M was sat at the end of the car. He was watching something upon the onboard television. The inside of the car looked like it had been converted. The passenger seat in the font had been turned round and was now facing those at the back. The back of the driver's seat had a small fridge built into it. M moved his eyes away from the television and looked over at the other two. "My, you two look like you have been through the wars." Neither gave an expression back at him. "Well, it's a well done from me and everyone at the Ministry. You have proved your worth having on board." He brought a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. "I was sent an important memorandum this morning. I guess I have to read it out too you. For the eyes of M, Her majesty is well aware of the services Agent 10K and his eventual salvation for the British Isles and its citizens. I therefore wish to offer Agent 10K the sincerest gratitude's. I am also therefore offering a knighthood for Agent 10K. It's your call whether you want to take it Duncan. The offer is still open."

"I'll think about it"

"You do that. As for you Miss, Valentine, you are most definitely promoted. Without you, there would be so much red tape and evidence."

"Why is that a good thing?"

"Because, now no country can claim that it was there responsibility. Anyway, we have decided that Britain wants nothing to do with Burnside or any of his business. The depot, which we used for keeping the fuel is well, had sort of an accident. See for yourself." He turned the television round to show the other two. There appeared to be a massive fire blazing away. The BBC was reporting from the fuel fire. The depot was on fire. "Only a few people should be injured. The emergency services should be on the scene tending to everything. Looks like the cause will be caught up in the fire. It is good to have my two best agents back in business."

"Sir, Burnside is dead. But there was another man who spoke to me briefly. I don't know who he was. Any information?"

"No, nothing." M gave a smile at the two of them. The car began moving away from the Dock. "Don't worry about any damage whatsoever. We have a clean up crew working around the clock to get the place cleaned up. The Ministry has been missing you. There is plenty of paperwork to go through. But I'll get someone else onto that. We noticed something was wrong, when the news reported of a plane being downed off the Devonshire coast. I have been staying down here for a few days with my friend Lord Tibet. He was able to provide me with some information about the island. I knew you would be safe though. I would not believe you had been killed. He helped me to send out a message to the island to find out about the plane. They released a statement saying that the plane had gotten in the way of some fuel tests." Bond remembered something.

"Here, I took this from the manor. It is a syringe. It is full of the new fuel. You should get it checked."

"We will do. It will be very promising to find out what was going on with the fuel. As you know the rocket failed. The government is looking it over. It was going to land back on the island. But it went off course and into the sea."

"So why did it not explode?"

"We are unsure, though this fuel sample should be able to help us. I know an excellent scientist who should be able to help us. Bond I believe you know who I am talking about."

"No? Who?"

"Miss Orico? One of our initial informers. She helped us to pick you out in the first place. Of course you know she is a master in petrochemical studies. I shall have this sample sent over to her to get us an analysis. The car ride back to the Ministry should take a few hours, so relax. Have a drink. In the meanwhile, I shall make a few calls and get everything sorted out." Ms chair did something amazing. It made a half turn back so that it was facing the front. Bond looked over at Lovely. "Everything ok for you?"

"Oh yes. I just want to relax and rest. Is it ok, if I go to sleep?"

"Sure. Don't worry about it. I can entertain myself." Lovely turned over and leant against the headrest of the car. Bond was alone by himself. He pressed the channel button upon the television. Nothing appeared that took his fancy. He had experienced the excitement he had before. It was a good feeling to have once more. He reached over to the fridge and pulled out a drink. He opened it up and took a long sip. It felt good running down his throat. He could not wait to have a long rest. He sat back, drink in hand and thought about things. His thoughts were getting themselves into order. There was one place he needed to head too first. "Driver, can you please take a detour over to Henley, I need to do something."

"Certainly sir." M did not say anything. He merely nodded his head slowly. It had to be done. Bond sat back and continued to think. The days were changing for Bond. This was the end, and also the new beginning for Bond's lifestyle.

XXIII

A remembered soul

The car pulled up outside Bond's flat. It looked the same as it had been before the snow. It had finally melted away after Christmas. "We are going to head over to Oxford and get the syringe analysed. We shall pick you up in two hours. Is that enough time for you?"

"Yes it should be." Bond waited for the car to pull away around the corner, before he set of down towards the town. He walked past the pub and on towards the river. The fronts of some of the shops were showing their age. He finally made it down to the river. There appeared to be a few people walking about, along the river. He was pleased to see the smiles upon the few people's faces. His clothes were dirty, but he did not mind. It would all get sorted out soon. He walked along the river, greeting everyone he walked past. They all seemed to be enjoying their time outside. Bond came to the same spot he was at over chritmas. He opened the gate and passed on through up to the bench. "Hello again, I told you I would be back soon. I hope I did you good. I bet you looked down and saw me working. Look at me bragging away. I've been thinking see, I want to be more close to you. I know we were close back then, when you were alive. But I feel alone now. I want to know you can hear me." Nothing happened. He felt slightly down heartened. The sun shone brightly in the sky. He was talking to the gravestones. People walking past, did not think he was mad. They thought he was being very dignified, greeting the dead. Bond felt like crying. He was alone in the world. Being here was not going to do him any good. "You will always be remembered, every one of you." He stood up and walked out of the graveyard, he needed to get a hold of himself. He ran back to his flat. He did not have his keys with him. But he had always known how to open doors without the need of a key. After walking in, he looked around. He walked hurridly into the kitchen, and turned on the tap, waiting for it too fill up. He dunked his head into the water. It was useless. He could not let the memories go. He wanted to be close to his mother. It was the feeling of love. There was a lack of love in his life since he had found out about the loss of his mother. He removed his head form the water and gasped for air. He was not trying to commit suicide, but to give him some help in getting back his reality.

Bond shed only one tear. He went and sat down upon his chair, and stared out at the window. He could see a number of birds flying about in the sky. They landed down on top of a building. The river was flowing at a fast rate. He was still upset. He decided he needed to make a bit of a change. So he got up and got himself changed. There was a need to have a shave. After sorting himself out he looked through the window once more. He gasped in a huge breath of air, releasing it out through his nose. The air was warm. The thought struck in his head. There were people who loved him. Miss Orico, Lovely, even Miss Silvertorne. They all loved Bond for being Bond. The sun came out from behind a cloud. He was happy again. He knew it would all be ok from here. His family were gone, but the memories would always live on. For now he would be at peace with the deaths of his parents. The rest of his time was spent catching up with the post and chatting to a few friends out on the street. Bond checked out the pub, before heading back up too the flat. He was waiting outside, looking neatly dressed when M turned up with the car. "Step in, do I have news for you."

"Sure." Bond got in the car. Lovely was still asleep. It had been a hard time for everyone. She must have been burned out. She had stopped shaking. The car pulled away from the flat and headed off down the road, back towards the Ministry. "We have gotten the results back, interesting news actually. It turns out that the formula used, can be used as a fuel. As proven with the depot fire. But interestingly enough, the new mixture cannot be used as a weapon. If it had landed on parliament, the buildings would be in ruin and we would be left with a big mess. We guess Burnside knew from the beginning that it would not work. He was just going to run off with the money the investors sent him. I have called ahead, and contacted the government to freeze the finances occurring with the company. It was a plan just waiting to fail. The competition would not have lost out at all." Bond smiled once more. He was happy about the end result it was also going to be a time to rejoice on the saving of parliament. The car moved out onto the main roads. They headed back up towards the Ministry. Bond could not wait.

As they pulled up, through the gates, there was a definite sign of rejoice at the Ministry. Everyone had stopped working and had lined themselves outside the building. M exited first, followed by the driver. He walked along and opened up the passenger door. Bond woke, Lovely up. She stirred in her sleep. "Stop it, I'm too tired."

"But we are back at the Ministry."

"Are we?"

"Yes." She woke up fully and looked to see if Bond left the car. He stepped out to a roaring applause. Lovely followed after him. Everyone was happy to see them return. M made a speech and then headed on into the Ministry. Bond and Lovely was mobbed by everyone. There were thanks of joy and people patting them on the back. Bond walked into the Ministry. Thanking everyone for coming out. He left Lovely and headed towards Ms office. Miss Silvertorne was walking out of his office. She moved past Bond, without saying a word. He knocked upon Ms office door. There was a moment before he heard anything back. "Come in." Bond opened the door and walked on in.

"Is everything ok?"

"Yes, yes, it's not that serious. Nothing we cannot sort out. Please, do take a seat." Bond sat down on the chair in front of M, and sat at a lean. He was in need of some relaxing. Bond enquired as to why M looked disheartened. He seemed to be busying himself once again with the paperwork in front of him.

"What is the problem?"

"Don't worry. There are plenty of things out there that you need to be worrying about, but this is not your problem."

"Just tell me what it is."

"The destroyed island has caused a freak whirlpool in the middle of the sea. All of the debris is being sucked down to the seabed and then being spewed out again further out too sea. The ships are struggling to keep away from the pull of the whirlpool. On top of that, the debris that went flying in the explosion is landing everywhere. Lundy Island looks a mess. The ships are getting bombarded. Hopefully it will end soon. They have one hell of a job ahead of them"

"I hope so too. Any more bodies turned up?"

"No, though now you talk about it, a source of mine, describes a man, asking to be ferried over to the island earlier yesterday. Can you describe that man you saw?"

"He was about six foot, dark coloured hair, and a sharp suit."

"Sounds just like this man. I have not gotten you a name but, I will get my other sources onto it. You will get the information soon."

"That's good."

"I think, you deserve a well earned rest. Consider yourself on a months leave. It will do you good. I suggest you go see our nurse first. She can sort you out for medical supplies whilst you are away. You are a fantastic agent Bond and you have proven yourself to be a great asset for us."

"Will do sir. What is going to happen to Lovely?"

"She will be given a debriefing and then given some time off."

"Why was she sent in the first place?" M stood up and walked over to the window. He put his hands behind his back.

"We were worried about the whole plan, especially Lovely. She demanded that I send her in. It was a difficult decision to make. But I guess it proved to work in the end."

"Only just"

"What does that mean?"

"Well, Burnside managed to capture her, almost as soon as she was on the island."

"Bond, you know she has feelings for you. I made the decision of letting her go, purely on my own back. Are you suggesting it was a wrong decision?"

"Of course not. I just thought that she only wanted to come, for a reason with no just cause."

"It looks like she was willing to die saving you."

"I almost got her killed. It was a difficult time for everyone, I see."

"I would be happy to take that time off now, for sure. It may do me some good."

"Sure, and please. Do try to relax. Your due back at work in a month's time. Your job depends upon you being back to your physical fighting fit stage."

"Where do you suggest I go?"

"I'll get the treasury to forward you some money. A few thousand pounds should get you through. Though on a personal level, I would suggest you going somewhere like the Bahamas, a lot of nice little islands over there. You would basically be secluded. I hope you enjoy your time."

"I am sure I will. I guess I will see you in a month then. Goodbye"

"Bye." Bond stood up and walked out of the room. He moved past Miss Silvertorne, giving her a wink as she looked up. She smiled back at him. He enjoyed the attention. He checked himself out with the nurse. She commented on how the coast guard seemed to have performed such a brilliant job on his wounds. He did have to spend sometime with her, under anaesthetic. She needed to remove several bullets from his body. He could soon feel a sigh of relief when she took the bullet from his leg. Bond woke up to find himself in his room. It was night outside, and a good opportunity to head off into the darkness. He was unsure which island he would choose to head too. It may as well be a decision left down to the available space at the airport. The bed felt comfortable, but he needed to go now.

His room had not changed much since he had last been in. The maids of the Ministry had obviously been in to change his linen ad fill up his bathroom supplies. Bond tried not too spoil it too much, so that they got a short break. After packing up his belongings, and placing his gun hidden within his room. Bond headed downstairs to towards the garage. Lovely was waiting to see M. She was standing outside his office. "Is everything ok?" said Bond

"Yes. The debriefing was interesting. It is a shame about those boats."

"Don't worry they will be fine. So what are you going to see him about?"

"I need to ask him for a transfer of money. I'm planning to go on holiday, going to see some family friends abroad."

"Sounds like a plan. I am unsure where I am going. But I guess I shall see you in a month." Lovely looked like she was concerned with something.

"Bond, I have to tell you something."

"Yes? What might that be?"

"It is hard to explain but…I have these feelings…and…they are for you."

"I see" Bond did not know what to say. He knew already how she felt. But to hear the words come from her were a different matter. She found it difficult to come to terms with it all.

"I could not allow myself to lose you. I begged M to let me go. He was reluctant but I managed to change his mind. I was careless almost from the beginning. I was captured on the island. I thought I would never see you again."

"Well calm down, we are all safe now."

"Would you like to come with me too see my family."

"Lovely, this is all too sudden. I don't know what to do. I am so confused right now. It's just that…" She put her finger over his lips.

"Don't say another word. You can think about it yes?" Bond gave her a smile. She turned and knocked upon the door again. The light at the top of the door came on; she entered, closing the door behind her. Bond stepped away. Turned and walked through the door under the stairs, down to the garage. The Morgan was waiting for him to come drive it. The mechanic was nowhere to be seen. He opened up the garage doors and walked back to the Morgan. The key as always were left in the ignition. He turned the key and heard the roar of the engine. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the confusion. For the next month, it was going to be him, and nothing but complete relaxation. He released the handbrake causing the car's wheels to spin on the spot for a second. It shot like a bullet out of the garage and back down the driveway. The bag filled with his belongings was sat upon the passenger seat. He bid the Ministry good bye and allowed himself to drive on carefully into the darkness.

XXIV

The Unknown

The main roads were all quiet on the drive up to the airport. Bond kept the roof down, so that he would say awake. He could do the sleeping on the plane. Heathrow airport was busy as always. Bond walked around Terminal two, looking up at the departure screens. They all showed flights, heading off to far foreign countries. He continued to look up, noticing that there was a flight heading to Mauritius in two hours time. He headed through the crowds and got in line for the ticket counter. The woman at the front desk, asked him to hand over his passport. She gave him a smile, when she realised who he was. "Mr. Bond, it's good to see you flying with us so soon again."

"Yes, I am taking an extended holiday. Is there any spaces, on the Mauritius flight left?"

"There's a seat left in first class. It's awfully pricey though."

"Don't worry about it." He handed the Ministry card over, paid and got his ticket.

"Enjoy your holiday."

"I will thank you." Bond walked on through to customs. They were all very happy people. Bond thought this slightly strange at this time in the evening. Bond walked through with no problems. He sat down in the departures lounge and closed his eyes. He was so tired. The only time, he woke up was when someone came along and bumped into him from behind. There was the feeling that he was being shaken awake by a hand. He eventually woke up fully to find he had a few minutes left before they would be announcing which gate he had to head too. Bond waited, thinking about what may lie for him on his return. He took off his jacket. The airport was quite warm. The recycled air was getting into Bond's lungs. It was not a great taste. He folded his jacket in a way that it did not get too creased when being handled. Bond noticed something sticking out of his jackets breast pocket. It was jutting out only slightly. Bond was intrigued to find out what it was. He removed the white item, finding out that it was in fact a telegram. It had no name inked onto its front. He opened up the telegram and peered through what it said.

AGENT 10K,

Please find waiting for you at your villa everything you will need. Contact through the local government office should you need anything further. M wishes you take a good long rest whilst you are on holiday.

- Ministry

Bond had a feeling this had been typed out from the typewriter of Miss Silvertorne. He did not see who had placed the telegraph in his pocket. A woman walked along, from the customs desks and sat down opposite to Bond. She looked like she was in her mid twenties. There was a briefcase with her. It looked very official. Bond did not say anything. "Nice evening tonight."

"Yes"

"Where are you heading too?"

"I'm off to Mauritius, in a minute."

"That sounds exciting. Look, my name is Elizabeth Woodall. I represent the CIA. I heard on the wire, that you helped put a stop to some illegal business and attempted terrorism." She showed him some identification to back up this claim.

"Yes? What about it?"

"Well, the CIA would like to hire your services. We are prepared to offer you an adequate sum of money for this job. It's a very delicate job I must say. Only someone with your skills would be able to take out the threat."

"I'm sure you have plenty of people in America willing to take on this sort of case."

"This…is…something even beyond their skills."

"Look, contact these people and they will be able to sort you out." Bond handed over a number.

"I will do. Thank you for your help, and enjoy your holiday." The woman got up and walked away. Bond was pleased with himself. The number was useless. Unless she wanted to have a table reserved at a posh Henley restaurant. Bond looked over at the departure screen. His gate had been called. He stood up and walked towards the boarding gate. The walks always feel like they were going on forever. He eventually got to the gate and waited in the queue with the other people. He stepped through, past the staff members and was ushered on towards the plane. One of the stewardesses helped Bond find his seat. First class was defiantly worth the extra money. Bond was finally able to relax. But something was bugging him. He looked through the in-flight magazine. The thought would not leave his mind. He closed his eyes and started to think. It was true. People, still knew who he was. He was now going to be in constant demand to save the world. But was this the life that he wanted? He thought long and hard about this. It was the life he wanted. He could make people proud of him. Bond was sat in the plane waiting for it, too take off. He started out of the window, looking into the darkness. The next month was going to be interesting; it was nothing but pure relaxation. He closed his eyes, and started to sleep. His name was James Bond, 10K to his job and he was going to save this world no matter what. The evil is constantly out there and he was going to be the one ridding it from the world.

XXV

One month later

Bond woke to have some dinner. A well known quote rushed through his head. "Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile." Albert Einstein was certainly onto something. That quote to Bond summed up the day, those past months and finally his new life. Bond sat staring out across the ocean. He had needed this break desperately. The evenings had been followed with ease. He would watch as the sun set once more on the bay, before heading into the local village for a meal. Bond was at peace here, nothing was going to snap him out of this tranquillity. He enjoyed every moment he was here. The sea, the sand and the people he had met. But out there, back across the ocean, the Ministry waited. His wounds from the previous month had all pretty much healed, being able to feel like a new man. He was due back any day now and M had sent him some more clothing and a small letter detailing some more information about the aftermath of the incident.

Once he had finished his dinner, Bond walked along the beach, back towards his villa. The sea was sweeping in over his feet. The water was warm upon his skin. From around the corner he could see his villa. An orange glow lit all of the ordinarily white sand a change of colour. Bond sucked in one long breathe, captivating the air in his lungs. It felt good. Bond looked behind him, seeing that the footprints he had left had now all been washed away by the sea. He ran up to the door of the villa. Strangely it was ajar. Bond had not left it like this. He edged his way into the front room; he was without a weapon, so this was an awful situation for him to be in. The front room was wide, with a large open window; He could see the orange haze coming into the room. He looked around, there appeared to not be anyone here in on the ground floor. The kitchen was bare, nothing had been touched. All of a sudden there was a sound from upstairs. He walked slowly up each of the wooden steps. Looking through the bars of the landing, hoping to see who was here with him. The sounds appeared to be coming from the master bedroom. Bond had a mental picture of where they might be in regards to the room. It was small but full of furniture. He also knew where his gun was, if only he could get too it in time. He would be able to take control. Bond edged over towards the wall by the door. He grabbed hold of the metal handle of the bedroom door. It was heavy in his hand. With one forceful push down, the door sung open. Bond lunged in and dived across the bed. As he fell onto the other side, he grabbed hold of his jacket, knocking it onto the floor. Bond fumbled for a moment. He would be hidden behind the bed, but only for a second or two. He reached into his jacket. Looking for his weapon. He found his gun in the front breasted pocket of the jacket. He pulled it out, jumped into a kneeling stance and took aim at the intruder. They had not turned round for some strange reason.

"You! Look at me!" shouted Bond. The figure slowly turned round. They looked fairly foreign to Bond, most definitely not of the English or Jamaican type, a stern look and a mop of brown hair upon their head. Their face was scarred slightly down the left cheek. They cut a stare towards Bond. In their hand, they held a round like object. It was rigid around the edges. Bond could not see the whole item. But he recognised some of the markings.

"What are you doing here?" he shouted.

"Looking for your gun. I see you found it first."

"That does not answer my question. Why are you really here?"

"You don't know me. Though I know you, I know your father. He was a wealthy man. I have lost money because of your recent endeavours."

"What are you talking about?" asked Bond.

"You stopped me getting my money back. That's why I have come here. I want you too hand over my share of the money." Bond clicked the guns safety catch off. "You don't frighten me. You are an enemy to me and my family. Your father betrayed me and stole my money."

"My father worked in the steel industry. His money was made with other businesses. He was a loyal man with a spotless criminal record." Bond pondered why he was telling the man this information. It was not like he knew the man personally. He coked the gun and went back to staring at the intruder through the sight.

"It was their entire fault. Those people, sat in that office, judging us. Looking down on us. Too this day only one survives. Those people were sick. They were sly, like a fox. It was disgusting. I had to get out of there. But of course. I had no money. My share of the industry. It still lived on. But I was forgotten. The shares shot up, but I could not claim. I was poor, whilst those people were rolling in the money. It was passed onto you, I know it. The money is safe with you. You wouldn't spend it. You're a loner and a loser. Nothing good will come of you. Though…like I have already told you. One member survives to this day. His share exists, still. Here he is in front of me. The man, the legend. The backstabbing too faced creep, who would forget his own fathers best friends." Bond knew his fathers friends. Some good, some seedy. This one was obviously the latter. Bond looked angry, he was going red in the face. The intruder continued to stand there thumbing the item in his hands.

"My dad was not like that. I have told you. I inherited that money fair and….. Enough of this. What do you want? The money? Because it is obviously not here." The intruder was trying to be reassuring to Bond; he was having none of it.

"Don't you get it? This world is too bad, too mean. It is not pure for someone like you. I want to save you. If you die you will be safe. You will be with your parents once again. You can do it. I can do it for you. Yes, all I want is the money." The intruder cut a smile at Bond.

"NO!" The intruder turned sour in his looks.

"Ok, you want it that hard way." The intruder let go of the item in his hands, he threw it over to Bond. He caught it in his free hand. Bond only had to look at the item for a second before realising what it truly was.

A GRENADE!

Bond threw the item back towards the intruder, who was diving out of the doorway. Bond dived backwards, exiting the villa through the window. He was on the first floor. It was a long way down. Nothing was there to help break his fall. He fell upon his back, landing on a slope of sand at the base of the villa. He slid slowly down onto the ground, beneath a large coconut tree. The top floor of the house erupted through the air, exploding like a large firework. Bond could not defend himself. The fall had hurt his back dramatically, whereas the explosion rained down debris upon him. It had taken him the full month so far to get his body back to the state he had wanted it too be at. In one fell swoop it was damaged again. He did not bother to move. The island was small so the emergency services were quick to the scene of the crime. He waited until a paramedic found him lying under the trees leaves. Bond looked up once more from where he was lying. He saw the top of the tree burning and the top floor of the house completely gone.

M had him returned to the Ministry as soon as he was discharged from the hospital. He was ferried up too his room and told too rest here. Lovely did not come visit, though she did send him some flowers. "Typically normal of her." he thought. He looked down at the card that was included with the flowers.

"To Bond,

Happy Valentines Day

Valentine"

M entered into the room on the third day.

"Having trouble staying away from danger?"

"Looks like it."

"Well just rest here. Everything should be catered for you, until your ready to come back to action."

"Any news?" M stood up.

"No Duncan, none at all. There was no second body. It looks like you were specifically targeted."

"Well lets us just hope they don't return." M gave a smile.

"I must leave you now Duncan. There are other matters too see too." M opened up the door.

"I'm never going to be safe again, am I?" M paused.

"No 10K, you won't. But is that any different from your old life? Take what happened back in Mauritius. That man talked of your dad and the past. He may have well come for you no matter what you were doing. You need to take this day by day. New challenges wait for you. There is no telling what will happen to you tomorrow. Just protect it well."

"I will." M bowed his head and left the room. Bond was alone once more. The countries new hero was left to think too himself. This new life was a life definitely worth living, for queen and country. He would be back with a vengeance to help save the country once more.

His name was "M". Only very close circles, of which Bond was now part of, knew of his proper full name. It remained Top Secret. No file or dossier existed, revealing his real name. He was only called by his secret name. This included all of the personnel working at the Ministry, the British secret service and even the Queen.

1 Смерть is Russian for "Death"

89


End file.
